by Nana Malone
“Easier does not equal better.” Cassie tossed her raven hair, causing it to cascade down her back. “Back to the situation at hand. Do you believe what he’s saying?”
“About wanting to help me and not knowing what Peter was up to?” Symone shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve touched him, and I can see his memories, but it’s not like I can see his intention. Besides, he’s an empath. I don’t know how much of it is him manipulating emotions.”
Cassie’s eyebrows darted up. “An empath? Isn’t that an interesting piece of news?”
“Whatever. Problem is, I can’t trust what I get off of him. What did you see?”
Cassie smiled beatifically. “You know full well I don’t probe without permission. Unless it’s a matter of life and death.”
Symone grinned. “Did you get anything useful?”
Cassie shook her head. “No. I’ll need to wait till he’s conscious. But I did get something else.”
Symone blushed but didn’t bother to start an explanation. If Cassie wanted to be angry and kick her out, she could. Shit, it was probably no less than she deserved. “Exactly what did you get?”
“That maybe it’s time you cut yourself some slack, Symone. So far, what I get from that man is that he’s not a danger to you. It feels like a deep bond. Whether he’s an unwitting danger to us remains to be seen. We’ll talk to him when he’s awake. In the meantime, we’ll take turns guarding him. You should get some rest.” She paused, and pale green eyes met Symone’s gaze. “One thing you should know. When two of us get together, there’s a heightened sense of arousal that makes us combustible. He’s enhanced like you are, so I don’t know what will happen if you get…close. It’s not your fault, and there’s not a ton that can be done about it. Your body is trying to be in control. It’s natural, but a bit tricky.”
Symone finally exhaled the breath she’d been holding onto all night. The kiss hadn’t been entirely her fault. “I was pretty sure I was losing my mind. He kissed me and I—” she cut herself off. “I know it shouldn’t have happened, but I was just so surprised I could touch him, then he…”
Cassie put a hand on her arm. “It must be very lonely being you. I can’t even imagine what you have to go through every day. Like I said, cut yourself some slack. Nobody could blame you for needing to be close to someone—even if he’s a Tracker.”
Symone nodded. “I might as well take first watch. Maybe bring him some food. It’s not like I’ll be able to sleep now anyway. Maybe I can get him to open up.”
Cassie mumbled something as Symone headed for the door that led to the guest cabins. It sounded like, “I hope he’s not the only one.”
Chapter Ten
Jansen stalked around the kitchen, trying to diffuse his anger while he fed his growling stomach. As he paced the kitchen, he gnawed on a chicken leg from the leftovers of Lisa’s roast chicken dinner. Damn that woman could cook. The only nod he made to decorum was the napkin he held under the chicken leg, so as not to drip fat all over the floor.
“You know, last I checked we have plates in here somewhere.”
He whirled around to find Lisa leaning against the doorframe. His face flushed as he paused mid-bite. “Sorry, Doc. I was still hungry.”
“I see. If you’re going to take out your aggression on my perfectly roasted chicken, have the decency to use a plate.”
He blushed. Lisa always had a way of unsettling him. She was so far away from him in the scope of the world. She all neat and prim and proper. And he a brutish soldier. A brutish soldier in a shitty mood. “Um, sorry.” He reached into the cabinet where the plates were kept and pulled one down. He placed the chicken leg on it, unsure of what to do now.
Lisa chuckled and opened the fridge. “Have a seat. I’ll make you a proper plate with a knife and fork maybe? You want some of the roasted potatoes?”
His stomach growled, and he smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, um, if there are any left. I know the boys likely already cleaned them out.”
“You’re in luck. I always cook enough for an army.”
He sat at the center island as she served him, and it made him feel uncomfortable—she serving him. He was pretty certain it should have been the other way around. Worse, she didn’t have any food. “You’re not eating?”
“I’m stuffed. Besides, if I eat any more carbs, I’m going to have to sign up for an Iron Man or something just to work it off.”
He almost opened his mouth to say something like her body looked just fine to him, but that was probably inappropriate, so he kept his trap shut. Instead, he said, “Erm, thanks.” Using the knife and fork, he began to self-consciously eat again.
“So you want to tell me what that was all about?”
He frowned? “What?”
“The display on the lawn with Symone. Don’t you think you were a little hard on her?”
His skin tightened and drew hot. He hadn’t even noticed anyone but Cassie and Symone were around. “She shouldn’t have brought him here. It puts us all at risk. Not to mention, he tried to kill her.”
She shrugged. “She seems to know what she’s doing. She’s an adult, Jansen, you can’t control her.”
“I don’t need to control her. I just need her to see what’s right in front of her.” Symone had always been reckless. When she left the Lair halfcocked nine months ago, she hadn’t given any thought to how the rest of them would worry about her. “She’s impulsive and selfish.”
Lisa leveled him with a hard look. “She’s not selfish. She just doesn’t know how you feel about her. How much you…worry.”
A hot blush crept up his neck and singed his ears. “How can she not see?” He cleared his throat. “This is her home, we all care about her.” He hoped that made it a broader statement. He, better than anyone, knew how a relationship with Symone would never work. He couldn’t even hold her hand without her singing his hair off. He couldn’t live with the constant frustration of never being able to touch her. Though that wasn’t much different from now.
Lisa’s voice was low. “It must be frustrating when someone can’t see how you feel.”
***
Garrett’s head snapped off his pillow the moment he smelled Symone coming. As bodyguards went, it could have been worse. Could have been that uptight Jansen guy.
She walked in carrying a tray of food and several bottles of water. “I brought you dinner. I didn’t know what you liked, so I just grabbed leftovers—fried chicken, rolls, and salad. You should eat something.”
When she put the tray down and lifted the glass lid, his mouth watered. The aroma alone could temp a man to sell his left nut. But he didn’t spring on the heaping tray of food. Instead, he put his senses to good use, sifting through the smells for anything that shouldn’t be there. At the very least he had a career in taste testing if the whole soldier thing didn’t work out. His stomach grumbled in protest. He was famished, and his body didn’t want to wait for the necessary precautions.
“You don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t poison you.” She shrugged delicate shoulders and eased herself into a teak chair that faced the door. In her wife-beater tank and fitted cargo pants, she looked every bit the warrior she was. Except he knew how soft she was.
“If we wanted to kill you, there are a million other ways to do it here, given everyone’s talents.”
She had a point. She herself could have killed him in her apartment. She could have let the other Trackers take him out. Hell, that Jansen guy probably would have done it with his bare hands. Garrett pulled the tray closer, and picking up a chicken leg, he tore into it with his teeth. He moaned as the spices awakened his taste buds, tasting the pepper, garlic and—was that tarragon? He shut his eyes in bliss as he chewed.
Her soft laugh had his eyes cranking open.
“You look like you’re in heaven.”
He snapped up the napkin and wiped his mouth. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten anything. Let alone something home cooked.”
Symone no
dded. “I know the feeling. Dr. Trenery has this whole love of cooking thing. Every time I come here, I feel like I walk away with five extra pounds. Cassie says it’s good, seeing as I’ve always been a hair too skinny anyway.”
He automatically focused on her chest. Nothing skinny happening there, but he forced his eyes to lift to hers. His gaze narrowed at the two, now-familiar names. “The Doctor, she’s the one who checked your sewing job? The brunette? And gave me some drugs while stitching up the gunshot wound?”
Symone stayed silent. Her shrewd eyes meeting his in a flat stare.
“And Cassie’s the itty bitty thing with the black hair and eerie eyes. Is she the one who healed me?” He tapped the gauze on his forehead. He’d lost a decent amount of blood when that damn bullet grazed him.
“Your intel gathering sucks. If I were you, I’d keep all the little tidbits of info to myself.”
The way he saw it, he had nothing to lose. He might as well learn the players if he was going to be around a while. “She’s the one who healed me.” He nodded. “She looks like him a little—Reaper. They have the same coloring anyway. But he never mentioned his sister had powers.”
“Looks like there’s a lot your boss doesn’t tell you. Save us both the headache okay? Don’t mention his name around here to anyone except Cassie.”
He glanced down at the heaping plate of food. “Are you sure you won’t join me? I feel weird eating when you’re not.”
She rolled her eyes. “I already ate. Kind of ridiculous, you pretending to have manners. After all, you kill people like me. Or at the very least torture us.”
Garrett chewed on his biscuit, but it tasted like sandpaper. “My missions were always location and intel. I was a risk during interrogations because of my ability. If I’d known what they were doing, Symone, I would have done everything in my power to stop them.”
“Right now, Cassie, Seth, and Jansen are talking about what to do with you. Cassie’s convinced I can get the truth out of you. It’ll be easier on both of us if you just start talking.”
He started to sing the same broken record tune he’d sung before, and she put a hand up. “And don’t tell me you’re trying to protect me. I don’t believe you. I can’t believe you. Because not even a couple of days ago, you would have been willing to hand me over. Without thinking about me as a person. Wondering if I had anyone to love me.”
He smelled the salty tang of unshed tears, and his stomach rolled. She was right, he was a monster. How many deaths was he responsible for? But he needed her to believe him. “Symone, from the moment I got the mission, I knew I wasn’t going to turn you in. Maybe not actively, but I knew it deep down. I never believed you were what Reaper said. There was no way you could care so much about those kids, and that cat, and seem to want to do the right thing, and be what they said you were. It was always inevitable to me that I was going to let you go free.”
She shook her head and stalked to the windows that faced the front lawn. “You have to stop saying things like that. It’s way too complicated, and I can’t afford to believe you.”
He sighed. “I’m a Tracker. You’re right. But since meeting you, have I actually tried to ever hurt you?” He didn’t wait for a response and continued, “Think about it, Symone. You clearly don’t trust anybody for good reason. Your instincts are there to protect you. If you’d thought I was really there to hurt you, would you have let me kiss you? Would you have kissed me back? Think about it, Symone. You know I’m telling you the truth. Even better, you can touch me and see for yourself. I’m the same as you—caught up in Peter Reeser’s sick game.”
Symone stood abruptly. “That asshole made me into a monster. Your powers might be a gift from God, but I know how I came by mine, and I’d literally kill to get those years back.”
Garrett scrubbed at his fuzz cut. “Fuck, Symone. I’m sorry he hurt you and your merry band of outlaws. I’m sorry he’s playing some kind of sick weapons game. I’m sorry. But I had nothing to do with it. I’m trying to help you. I just need you to believe me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and his eyes lingered on her breasts. High and firm—he tried not to think about how they felt pressed into his chest. He reached out a hand. “You don’t believe me? Fine. Touch me. And this time hold on until you start to see the truth. I know what I’m risking by having you touch me. What do you have to lose? We’re on your turf, after all.”
She flinched and took two steps back. “Oh, hell no. I’m not touching you. Not after what happened the last time. Cassie warned me that there’s going to be a heightened arousal thing between us. I’m not looking to play with fire.”
Garrett clicked his jaw shut and spoke through clenched teeth. “It’s the only way you’ll know the truth. The only way you’ll trust me.” He needed her to believe him. Otherwise, he’d risked his life for nothing. Risked Michael’s life for nothing. Knowing what he knew about Reaper now, he knew he wouldn’t survive if he went after all the Trackers on his own. More importantly, Michael wouldn’t get out alive. Garrett needed Symone as an ally. But more than that, he just needed her.
Her voice was soft. “I know you think this is some kind of game. But every time I touch someone, I steal something from them. It’s involuntary, but it still happens. It’s a violation, and I promised I wouldn’t do to someone what was done to me, unless it’s a matter of life and death.
You might be some kind of masochist that gets off on the pain, but I’m no black leather dominatrix. I don’t get off on other people’s pain.”
He closed the distance between them with three strides. His body dwarfed hers, and her head only met his chin. “If you want to know the truth, no walls, no boundaries. Let go. Stop worrying about everything you shouldn’t do and just take my hand.”
Chapter Eleven
Symone stared at Garrett’s outstretched hand. Fear snaked its way through her body, causing her hands to shake. He wanted this to happen. Wanted her to touch him. If something went bad, it wasn’t her fault. She repeated that over and over again to herself. It didn’t stop the nerves. But also, she didn’t want to see that he was telling the truth. She wanted to hold her belief tight to her chest. She needed to live in a world where she understood the rules.
She knew what she was. Killer. Weapon. Monster. Those roles had been defined for her a long time ago. Touching him wasn’t going to change anything.
But what if it does? A tiny voice spoke up. What if I don’t have to be alone?
He was the first person in years she could touch without killing, and it scared the shit out of her. Even scarier, she wanted to touch him. Wanted to remember what it was like to have uncomplicated human touch. Needed to feel connected to someone again. Needed to feel connected to him. Was she a traitor? She knew what he was, but she still wanted him.
His hand was steady as his navy eyes focused on hers. “All you have to do is take my hand, Symone. Take my hand and take a close look. You won’t hurt me.” His eyes were so earnest and his voice so steady. As if he believed every word. He wasn’t doing this for some masochistic rush. He actually believed what he was saying.
Hands shaking, she pulled at the fingers of her glove with her left hand. She met his gaze. It didn’t waver from her face. She slid her right palm into his. The immediate shock jolted her body, and she planted her feet, braced for the onslaught. His jaw clicked shut, and she could see the muscles working. For one moment, then two. Slowly his face started to relax, and his eyes closed. He looked—peaceful. Totally blissed out.
“Symone, let go of the fear. You’re not going to hurt me. I promise.”
Yeah, piece of cake. Let go of the fear she’d worn as a second skin since she left home. That fear had kept her alive. Taught her to be self-sufficient and wary. Sighing, she closed her eyes and took deep steady breaths. In her mind’s eye, she stopped worrying about the contact and focused on how warm Garrett’s skin was. How his hand dwarfed hers. The sensations flowing over her were calm. She got peace, concern
and something else she couldn’t quite discern. Like fondness. Mentally, she peeled another layer back then the images started.
Like a video, she watched in snippets of reverse time of the latest memories he had. Her walking into this room, the heaven of Doc Trenery’s food, arriving at the compound. She mentally flicked through those to get to the memories before he broke into her house. When she accessed them, she tensed but didn’t let go. She beat back the fear and loathing that were her constant companions.
Garrett on the phone to someone named Rex. “Negative Rex, she is not a terrorist. Intel incorrect or incomplete. Target not a threat.”
“You have your orders. Bring her in.”
“I may have my orders, but I’m telling you, she’s just a girl. She volunteers and tries to help people. What does Reaper want with her?”
“It doesn’t matter what he wants from her. All you have to do is follow orders.”
“I’ll bring her in. But then I want some answers. Michael has nothing to do with this. Just leave him out of it.”
“We can do that. Just bring in the girl. Where is she now?”
“I last spotted her in the Mylands Warehouse district, near Smith-Collins Road. I followed her for a mile, but then lost her scent completely.”
Symone not only felt Garrett’s resistance to the command, the tugging away from what he’d known because it didn’t feel right to bring her in, but she also recognized the lie he’d told his commanding officer. She’d never been to that area of warehouse district. She could feel the strong protectiveness he felt towards her.
Another round of memories flooded her brain before she could examine Garrett’s feelings too closely. Him watching her, stalking her like she was his prey. The shock of his thoughts made her jerk, but he held steadfast onto her hand.