by Kit Rocha
"That goes without saying, but it's beside the point." He covered her hand with his, enjoying the gentle, capable strength in her fingers. A comforting touch, familiar and soothing. "Is he right? Does this damn place get us all, one way or another?"
"Only if you believe in it. Eladio tried to teach us better." She squeezed his arm. "It's a risk. Flouting the law always is. But we know too many secrets, you and I. Between us, we could humiliate half the Council and discredit a third more."
"I'm not sure if I should be reassured or terrified."
"Reassured, love. If the Council gives you trouble, I can let the good people of Eden know which of their leaders pay me exorbitant sums for the privilege of licking my toes."
It startled a laugh out of him—not because he thought she was joking, but because he knew she wasn't. "You know what? I do feel better now."
"That's the spirit. And, Jared?"
"Yeah?"
"If there's some other reason Doc is worried, you don't have to tell me. It doesn't matter. If you need help, you'll have it, no questions asked."
It was the kind of moment where words weren't enough, so he leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
Gia patted his hand and surveyed the room. "You need a piano in here, now that you have a sweet little blonde to play it."
Oh Christ. "Ace has a big mouth," he muttered.
"That's hardly news, though it's amazing he still has time to make such liberal use of it." Gia quirked a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Was he exaggerating?"
"Have you met him?" Jared hedged. A cleaned-up version of a sector dump wouldn't work for Lili. The dark leather, worn fabrics, and shiny silver looked out of place on her. No, everything would have to be opulent, the kind of grand, extravagant luxury that had pervaded the underground clubs and lounges of the early twentieth century. Polished wood, lustrous satin, low lighting. Tuxedos and heels, cigars and flowers pinned into meticulously curled hair.
And Lili—brilliant, glowing—in the middle of it all.
Gia released his arm with a soft laugh. "Oh, Jared. None of us ever could resist a wide-eyed blonde."
He flashed her a sharp look and surveyed the room. "Maybe I'll shine this place up and pitch it to Scarlet. I could use a good torch singer."
"A better gamble than Tchaikovsky," Gia conceded. "And maybe I'll borrow your Lili for a few of my parties."
She'd faint, love. The words died, unspoken, on the tip of his tongue. Maybe she wouldn't—and wasn't that a far more dangerous thought? He'd kissed her, after all. She hadn't kissed him back, but she hadn't frozen up or shrank back in terror, either.
The memory tightened in the pit of his stomach. He could imagine all kinds of things now that had eluded him before—the way her breathing would falter as he undressed her, the soft noises she would make, growing louder as her pleasure deepened. The color of her eyes, blue darkened to midnight in the aftermath of too many orgasms to count.
Gia was watching him with a tiny smile, so he shook his head. "You're far too entertained by this, you know that?"
"Of course. I know my own vices. It's allowed, you know—to have a vice or two just for yourself."
"Sure." If you weren't on a mission. If your time was your own.
He'd almost told Lili, that was the craziest part. For some reason, standing there in his kitchen with her kiss lingering on his lips, he'd resented the wall that his secret had put between them. Only thoughts of her safety had kept the words from pouring out, especially after she'd made herself so vulnerable by sharing secrets of her own.
Gia's smile faded as she lifted a hand to his cheek. "Oh, Jared. I shouldn't have teased. Ace made it seem…" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I know his flaws in that regard. I'm sorry."
"Oh Jesus, Gia. I'm not that delicate, am I?"
"Don't make me answer that." She patted his face gently and let her hand fall away. "I'll leave your girl alone."
"She's not—" But the denial would only make things worse. "Thank you."
"Mmm." Gia turned in a circle, her gaze sweeping the room. "Are you looking for investors?"
"Well, that depends."
"On?"
"Theme." He winked at her. "If I go grungy, I can pick up more furniture from the alley out back. But if I go for the glamour…"
"It fits," she said slowly. "I mean, that's what they want. The luxury. Mine get all the thrill they need crossing into the sectors." She walked to the bar and tapped a fingernail on the scarred surface. "You won't need grime, I suppose, when they're drinking under the MPs' noses."
Both ideas had merit, but the decision wasn't his alone to make. "I'll think about it."
"Let me know." Gia glanced up toward the small windows. "What do you think? Since I'm already here, should I scandalize a few ladies by indulging myself with a visit to the spa?"
They'd be talking for weeks, utterly horrified by the fact that Gia had invaded their territory instead of staying out in the sectors, where they could conveniently pretend she didn't exist. "I have a better idea," he said, throwing his arm around her shoulders. "Let's both go."
She laughed. "Oh, the poor little darlings. Do they cluck at me or coo at you? Should we wager?"
"A bottle of O'Kane's finest," he agreed. Afterwards, they could share it, and he might just find the words to explain how Miss Lili Fleming had managed to get under his skin.
Rachel hadn't been lying about Lili's ring. The tight roll of bills she presented to Lili seemed just shy of ridiculous, even after Lili had tucked most of it into the back of her drawer for safekeeping.
What was left was enough to buy her a new wardrobe for a new persona—
No, not for a persona, she corrected herself as she browsed a rack of pre-Flare dresses. This wardrobe wouldn't belong to a perfect wife from Sector Five or a fearless O'Kane. It would belong to Lili, a woman caught between worlds—and unashamed of it.
Trix was staring at her, her head tilted to one side and her nose wrinkled in an expression of deep concentration. "No, none of this is right."
Lili ran her fingers over the lacy skirt of the final dress in the row and shook her head. "It doesn't feel like me. But nothing ever has."
"You need something…" Trix turned and flipped quickly through another crowded rack before emerging with a flowing satin blouse. "Yeah, something like this."
"Oh, that's nice." Rachel grinned. "Very classic."
It was simpler than the clothing she'd owned in Five. Not plainer, just cleaner, with none of the ruffles and bows that had always made her feel wrapped up like a gift no one wanted. "Is there a skirt that matches?" she asked, moving to stand next to Trix. Most of the clothing on this rack wasn't just pre-Flare, it was vintage, undoubtedly scavenged from dozens of wealthy closets.
"No skirt." But Trix was laughing with delight as she pulled another hanger from the rack. "These."
It was a pair of high-waisted pants, wide and fluttery at the bottom, but fitted at the top. She'd never seen anything quite like them, but the elegant lines appealed to her almost as much as imagining her father's expression if she'd dared to show up to dinner in pants.
The tiny shop didn't have a changing room, just a corner blocked off from the rest of the store by a curtain rattling on wooden rings. Lili retreated behind it, doing her best to ignore the fact that a good two inches of daylight stood between the curtain and the edges of the wall.
Anyone could peek in on her. But no one would, not with Rachel and Trix out there flashing their O'Kane tattoos.
It was a rather nice way to shop, all in all.
The corner was too small for a mirror, but the shop owner had affixed one just outside the curtain. It was stained around the edges and broken in one corner, but tall enough for Lili to examine her reflection with growing wonder.
For the first time in a long time, the person staring back at her wasn't a stranger. Oh, she wasn't entirely familiar, either. Her dresses had always made her feel like a doll—a shadow of a girl, too insubs
tantial to support the yards of lace and flounce—but she'd been used to that.
Now all of the frippery had been cut away, leaving sleek lines and gentle curves, the body she would have grown into sooner without the constant pressure to starve herself.
Not a little girl. Not a doll. She was looking at a woman.
"Oh man, Trix. You were right. Old-school Hollywood, all the way." Rachel smoothed one sleeve and rearranged a curl where it fell across Lili's shoulder. "Girl, you look good."
Lili watched the color flood her cheeks this time, but it wasn't the pink that distracted her. It was her own eyes—bright and excited in a way she'd never seen. Makeup could fake a lot of things, but not this. Not life.
She'd stand out. In a crowd of leather and denim, it would be impossible to hide. But the thought didn't leave her queasy the way it should have.
"I like it," she said quietly, meeting Rachel's gaze in the mirror. "I don't know if it's me, exactly, but I want it to be."
"That's all it takes, isn't it?"
Lili traced a hand over her hip and found herself smiling. "Do you think we can find a dress like this for the concert? Jared's coming with me."
"Here we go." Trix reappeared with a jewel-toned dress of rich, deep blue. She held it up to the front of Lili's body and bit her lip. "It'll have to be taken in at the waist, but I can manage that. This is it, though. Anything else you want will have to be made."
The dress was modest enough in the front, though it would hug her breasts and skim her body so closely that maybe modest wasn't the right word. And then there was the back, which was cut so low most of her spine would be visible.
She loved it. "Can I pull it off?"
Rachel laughed. "Ace'll spend the whole night staring at your back—he can't resist a blank canvas—but you will look fabulous."
Ace's gaze wasn't the one she wanted to attract. It was too easy to imagine Jared's hand sliding over the skin left so brazenly bare, or—God, his mouth—
The memory did odd things to her body. It was awake now, starving, and she couldn't control her own responses. Even now, the silky slide of satin over her skin felt lush, sensual, as if the realization of one kind of pleasure had awakened an unknown world of sensation.
It was tempting to turn her back on it, to find a way to retreat to safety, to caution, if not numbness. But there were no half-measures in this, no baby steps.
She turned from the mirror with the dress clutched to her body and made her choice. "What do I wear with it?"
"Strappy heels and a smile," Trix teased.
And nothing else, was the unspoken message, scandalous enough to shock a laugh out of her. "I don't know if I can pull that off."
"You made it out of Sector Five." Trix folded the dress over her arm and nodded firmly. "Trust me, that means you can do anything."
She didn't remember coming to Sector Four. Everything about the last few days of her life in Five was blurred by a layer of detached terror, her defense against Logan's rage as it seeped closer and closer to the surface. And then grief, the night he came home and told her that the future of the Fleming family now rested in her hands.
To him, it had been that simple. Trimming inconvenient branches from the Fleming family tree. He'd dug bruises into her cheeks as he held her face and whispered the words against her ear, the last thing she remembered clearly.
Now there's no one left to distract you from your duty. We'll start tonight.
He'd left a guard to watch her while he went to face Dallas O'Kane, and he hadn't come back, because Trix's lover had killed him.
Someday, Lili would have to thank Finn for that.
"We all got out of Sector Five," she replied, shaking free of the memory. Pain, at least, was a familiar emotion now. She knew it, how to feel it and how to contain it. "And I'm glad I came here."
For a moment, Trix just stared at her, a look of understanding shadowing her eyes. Then she jerked her head toward the other side of the cramped shop. "Come on. Shoes."
The jumble of footwear was chaotic. Boots, heels, running shoes with mismatched laces, all in a dizzying array of colors and styles. So many options, and she wondered if the other people browsing the selection even realized how odd it was to be faced with choices every time you turned around.
It was thrilling but intimidating. Lili was grateful for Rachel's unflagging enthusiasm and Trix's instincts as she went straight for a pair of low velvet heels with T-straps. "Thank you both so much for coming with me. I would have been lost on my own."
"Everyone needs help sometimes," Rachel said.
It was as perfect an opening as she would ever get. Lili ran her finger over the strap on a pair of totally impractical sandals and gathered her growing courage. "I feel like I need a lot of it right now. I don't know how to do any of this. How to…" Did they even use the word here? It felt antiquated and silly, but it was the only one she knew. "How to date."
The two women seemed to consider that, and Rachel finally shrugged. "I'm not sure we know, either. I mean, it's a word with expectations, right? Those tend to get turned upside down around here."
"I've noticed." She glanced at Trix again, because even though they'd lived different lives in Sector Five, they came from the same place. "I thought I knew how the world worked. But now I think my expectations are broken."
"The world," Trix declared, "is a complex thing. But dating doesn't have to be. He likes you, you like him. So you hang out, maybe get a little naked. Get to know each other. Simple. People have been doing it forever."
People had. Jared had. But she hadn't. "I don't…" She wet her lips and looked down, suffering the hot sting of true embarrassment. "I've never gotten naked."
But Trix only sighed in relief. "That's the best news I've heard all week."
Startled, Lili glanced up. The look in Trix's eyes drove her point home well enough—better to be left neglected than to endure Logan Beckett's touch. "I wasn't one of my husband's vices," she agreed softly. "He had too many others, I suppose, to have room for me."
Rachel worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "Are you nervous about what Jared will think?"
"He must already know. I don't think it bothers him, but…" It bothered her to be so hopelessly out of her depth when Jared could read her secrets in every tensing muscle and indrawn breath.
Rachel and Trix waited.
She was going to have to say it. They were alone in their corner of the store, but she still lowered her voice. "All my mother told me is that it's terrible and over faster if I don't move. I don't know what to do."
They stood there, their anticipation melting into stunned silence. It seemed to go on forever, and Lili was beginning to wish she hadn't said anything when they stepped toward her in unison.
"Oh, God. Okay." Trix laid a hand on her shoulder. "Just—first things first. That's complete bullshit. Get it out of your head."
Trix came from the same darkness that had almost smothered Lili. She came from worse, because at least Lili had been insulated by her name and her station, her cage gilded from the day she was born.
There'd been no softness and luxury for Trix. No easy numbness to protect her. And there was no deception in her now, just firm, commanding truth.
She said it was bullshit, and Lili believed her. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded jerkily. "Okay."
"All right." Trix gripped Lili's other shoulder and turned her slightly, so they were facing one another. "Now, Jared knows enough for the both of you—maybe enough for all of us—so if you trust him, he can show you. Right?"
"I trust him." To take care of her needs, at least. But trusting him to take care of his own was trickier. She, of all people, knew how habit-forming a lifetime of catering to others could be. "I just want to make him happy, too."
"Well…" Rachel folded her hands together and rocked back on her heels. "If it's technique you're after, there are plenty of opportunities to...observe."
Opportunities Lili had been avoidi
ng because of her confusion. She'd been struggling to find her footing, to reconcile the world she knew with the one she'd stumbled into. Her ironclad assumptions had already been cracking the night she'd met Jared. Now, all of her old understanding was gone, the last shards swept away by the firmness of Trix's words.
The next party she attended might make her every bit as uncomfortable, but in a very different way. A very educational way.
She nodded again. The ground solidified beneath her feet, and she felt steady inside her own skin. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Any time." Trix flashed her a grin, gave her a reassuring squeeze, then gathered their purchases and walked toward the clerk.
Rachel lingered. "You know, if you want advice about Jared? Ace knows him pretty well."
"They've been friends for a long time."
"And lovers."
Surprise froze Lili in place. "Oh."
"Uh-huh. Lots of personal experience." Rachel lifted one shoulder in a shrug, but her smile was soft and knowing. "Ace likes to tease me with it because he knows it's hot as hell, but there it is. No better source of information."
Hot as hell. Lili had a new appreciation for those words. She'd tasted that heat now, though her limited experience left her ill-equipped to imagine what Ace and Jared would look like with their hands sliding over each other.
Even trying to picture it left her feeling too warm. "I'll remember that." She returned Rachel's smile tentatively. "Maybe next time, I could cook for you guys, too?"
"That'd be nice." Rachel's voice was gentle, lower. Like they were both feeling too warm, and this moment wasn't as simple as an invitation to dinner.
The tension built until Lili ached with it, and she had to break away. "I'd better go make sure Trix doesn't try to pay for my things. Finn's always offering me money."
She hurried to the front of the store, not entirely sure she hadn't offered Rachel more than a simple meal—and embarrassingly intrigued by the possibilities.
Mad
Mad had seen more of the sectors and beyond than most people knew existed. He'd visited pre-Flare cities left abandoned and gutted, every useful thing stripped away and buildings left like skeletons to decay and die alone. He'd seen miracles of human ingenuity and things that could only be the hand of a higher power—the vastness of the ocean, the beauty of the Grand Canyon.