by Tracey Ward
“Then you won’t mind me asking an indelicate question?”
“I might mind but I’ll never let it show.”
“Are you in love with Alex?”
He freezes. I’m not even sure he’s breathing, and that’s good. That’s honest. I want honest. I want a real answer to a question that’s been with me for a while now. It won’t change much. Not really anything, but the knowing matters to me. It always has.
Liam’s hooded, tired eyes rise to mine cautiously. “What makes you ask that?”
I don’t answer him. It’s a diversionary tactic. He’s buying time, but I’m not selling. I wait him out impassively until he finally gives.
“I was,” he answers quietly, his voice so small I can barely hear it.
It’s shocking what those two words do to me. How hard they hit me. I suspected, but now I know, and now I’m angry.
He was in love with Alex. My Alex. He’s looked at her and wanted to touch her. Wanted to kiss her. But worst of all, he’s wished she wanted the same with him. An image of Liam kissing her flashes in my mind, making me feel sick in my stomach. Frustrated and nervous over God knows what, some stupid hypothetical that will never happen, but my hands are itching to punch his sickly face in for it. It makes me sad. The whole situation is depressing, and I almost wish I didn’t know. But I had to ask. It’s in my nature to know things. For better or worse.
“When?” I ask roughly.
Liam sighs tiredly. “When she was a file on my father’s desk. I’d never met her but I watched her. I saw her struggle with her ability and my heart went out to her. I wished I could help her. I wanted to make life easier for her because I understood her fears. Better than anyone else ever could, and I believed she could do the same for me if she knew me, and in the very lonely state that I was in, that kind of hope was enough to make me love her.”
“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” I ask dryly. “That you were confused and you never really loved her?”
He shakes his head vaguely. “It was impossible to sort my emotions during that time. They were everywhere. I was angry at my father. I was afraid for Alex and Naomi. I was jealous of you. But more than anything, I hated myself. I wasn’t exactly in a healthy state of mind.”
“You think you are now?”
“No. I very much doubt I am.”
“Meaning you’re still not sure how you feel about her.”
Liam looks at me impatiently. “I do know. I’ve known for a long time that, no, I am not still in love with her. You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to make a play for your girl.”
“You can play all you want,” I tell him, feigning indifference. “I’m not worried because I don’t have to be. That’s what makes her my girl.”
“Wonderful. Are we finished with this conversation then?”
“I am if you are.”
“More than. As far as Naomi and this bunker, when do you plan on moving her in?”
“Now.” I stand, my chair scraping mournfully across the floor. “Things need to change right now.”
∞
Naomi is out in the bunker by sunrise. Alex and I go to sleep immediately after, well past the end of our shift. We open the window to the let the cold morning air in. To let the thick air of Naomi’s anger out. It feels better inside in an instant. Lighter and brighter, and when I sink down low under the heavy blanket with Alex, wrapping my arms around her body pressed in close to mine, I know I’ll dream with her. I can smell it coming the way I could in Kandahar when the dock and the meadow were on the way, only this time it’s different. As my eyes fall closed and the wind blows in from the Sound and the sea, I smell salt on the air.
We’re on a yacht drifting in tropical, cerulean waters. Waves lap gently against a white sand beach to our right. The sun hangs suspended just shy of setting on the horizon to our left. The place is deserted. Not a soul in sight. No one but me and Alex and her red bikini. Her tan skin. Her long, glowing hair and big gray eyes. A warm breeze is blowing in off the water, swirling around my bare skin left uncovered by my swim trunks. It feels good, the sun. The warmth. We were in the cold and rain for so long in England, I forgot there was anything else in the world.
“Who brought us here?” Alex asks dreamily. She’s lying on her back next to me on the warm wood deck, her face pointed contentedly up to the sun. “You or me?”
“Team effort, I think.”
“Is it Aruba?”
“Probably.”
She smiles. “It was me, then. You’re welcome.”
I sit up on my elbow so I can lean over her, hovering my lips just above hers. “Thank you,” I whisper.
I kiss her slowly. Savoring her. She tastes like coconuts. Like a little bit of rum and a whole lot of delicious, and when I put my hand on her bare side and she moans happily in the back of her throat, up into my mouth, I realize I’m starving. And impossibly, perfectly happy.
“I’ve missed you,” she breathes, her hands on my shoulders. Her fingers digging in, holding me close.
“I’m right here. I’m always here,” I promise.
“Not like this,” she argues, her eyes searching mine. Taking me in and memorizing me in this light. “I miss this. I miss us like this.”
“We’re untouchable here.”
“Yes.”
“Safe.”
“Yes.”
I run my hand up her side. Behind her back. Reaching for the clasp on her top as my lips touch delicately to the side of her neck. “Alone.”
She arches her back, letting my fingers find what they’re looking for. “Yes,” she whispers.
“I’ll make it like this for us all the time. I’ll make us safe. And we’ll go to Aruba for real, just you and me.” I put my hand in her hair, brushing it away from her face, off her shoulders, so I can see her. All of her. “We’ll be alone. Finally.”
Alex smiles. It’s brilliantly beautiful. Relaxed and muted. Content. That’s what I hold onto. That look in her eyes that says she’s happy. That says she loves me. Only me.
I linger on loving her. I take my time because I can. Because I want to. Because I don’t say the words aloud enough, but I know how to make her feel them. And I do. With every kiss. With every touch. Every smile and laugh and desperate gasp. Every moment that I look in her eyes and I tell her silently over and over again that this is us.
Forever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ALEX
Two months. Jonnie and I have been trying to find Jokinen for two months, and today we finally had a breakthrough.
I saw his cufflink.
It had the initials GBJ, Gustav Boner Jokinen, or whatever his middle name is. It’s the first lead we’ve had on him in too long, and Jonnie and I are squirming in our seats with excitement when we tell Nick and Campbell about it.
“It’s gold,” I explain excitedly. “His suit is dark. Navy or black, I couldn’t tell for sure.”
Nick sits forward on the couch, his elbows on his knees. “Was there anything that would tell us where he is?”
I shake my head, my mouth falling in a crooked, disappointed line. “No. Nothing. I barely saw the cufflink.”
“But you’re sure it was him?”
“It was him,” Jonnie answers firmly for me. “I know it was him.”
“Did you see him?” Campbell asks.
“Briefly.”
“What color was he?”
“Blue-ish. Calm. Nothing that made me nervous. He looked like an average man.”
“Yeah, but he’s not. He’s a killer. Shouldn’t that show up somehow?”
“Not necessarily.”
“The man’s a sociopath.”
“So are you but you look pretty normal.”
Campbell smiles at her, draping his long arm over the back of the couch. “Stop flirting. This is serious business.”
“Do you really think you found him?” Nick asks me, his eyes carefully containing his excitement. He’s been really careful not
to be too disappointed every day I come to him to tell him we didn’t find anything. He never wants to discourage me because he knows that my confidence is pretty weak. But he had enough confidence for both of us, and today it finally paid off.
I nod once decisively. “Absolutely. Yes. It was him.”
He smiles with pride. “I knew you could do it.”
“And after many long months and countless frustrating, fruitless tries, your prophecy finally came true.”
“It’s a good day.”
I grin at him affectionately. “Yeah. It definitely is.”
There have been a lot of good days lately. And a few not so great days. A week after Gwen went into the Sound, she woke up with clear eyes and little to no memory of what happened. She cried when we told her how we found her. It really messed with her head, and when Liam suggested she go home to her family to get professional help and recover, everyone agreed it was for the best. Her name was never on a single file in Liam’s possession. She didn’t have anything to do with him before answering a very shady, very cryptic ad online that brought her to Belfast. There’s no trail to follow to connect her to any of us, so I Slipped her home to Boulder, Colorado, hugged her tightly, and promised she’d never us again.
As for the rest of us, with Naomi out of the house, people are finally relaxing. The entire team has fallen into a rhythm that feels comfortable. Safe. I’m almost afraid to enjoy it. I’m on the same schedule as Nick, but we’re not suffocating each other here the way we did in Mullion. During the day, we both have other things going on, so when we come back together at night, we actually have something to talk about. We lay in bed laughing together. Smiling easily in a way we haven’t done in ages. We’re kissing longer, touching slower. We’re connecting again, in every way. Every sweet, breathless, beautiful way, and I can’t remember a time when I loved him more. When I felt more sure of our future. That we might actually live to see one.
This is the first time Nick and I have been together when it didn’t feel like we were running. It doesn’t feel like we’re hiding here. It feels like we’re actually living, and I love it. I love it so much it hurts. We’re so secluded, I can’t imagine how anyone could ever find us. It’s a fact that’s made me wonder if we really need to find Jokinen after all. Could we stay here, solidly off the radar, and live out our lives on this ranch, a happy bunch of free range freaks?
I don’t ask that question out loud because I know what the answer will be. And I know it’s right. But I like the thought so I play with it sometimes. I take it out when I’m feeling tired or low, and I imagine it’s possible. I pretend the final fight is already over, we’ve won, and we’re totally and completely free.
Nick glances at his watch, frowning. “I’m up for a shift in the bunker. Time to relieve Brody.”
“Do you want company?” I offer.
He shakes his head as he stands, leaning over the coffee table to kiss me sweetly goodbye. That’s new; PDAs. He never used to do that but since we’ve settled in here, he’s been much more open. So much more comfortable with everyone and everything.
“You have a shift of your own later,” he reminds me. “I don’t want you to double up. It’s dangerous.”
“So is Campbell’s cooking, but I still suffer through that.”
“You’re welcome to eat hot nothing instead,” Campbell reminds me.
“Hot crap would be better than your lasagna.”
“I’ll remember you requested that the next time my night to cook rolls around.”
Nick smiles down at me. “Good luck with this.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you in a couple hours?”
“I’ll see you then.”
Nick slaps Campbell a high five and waves a goodbye to Jonnie before leaving the house. I watch him go, a lazy smile on my lips.
“You’re glowing, SB,” Campbell warns me. “Are you preggers?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m happy, you troll.”
“Yeah, you sound it.” He grunts as he throws himself up off the couch. “I gotta go see a man about a boar.”
“Is that code for something weird?” I ask. “It sounds weird.”
“I wish it was, but no. Brody went hunting early this morning at the end of our shift. He shot a big boar in the woods. We’re burying it and cooking it luau style for tomorrow night.” He points at me sharply. “And you can’t have any.”
“Yes, I can,” I reply blandly.
“No, you can’t.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I have to go, but we’re coming back to this later.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Yes, we are.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He flips me off, turning his back on me. “Yes, we are!”
Jonnie and I watch him walk slowly out of the house, following in Nick’s footsteps. And just like me, Jonnie smiles as she watches him go.
We both jump when he suddenly appears in the entryway again, his hand holding onto the doorknob. He looks at Jonnie with his eyebrows up in his hairline hopefully.
“Today?” he asks.
She laughs, shaking her head. “Not today.”
“Gah!” he shouts in frustration, throwing himself out the door onto the front porch.
“Okay, I have to ask,” I tell her when he’s finally gone. “What is that about?”
She blushes. “The today stuff?”
“He asks you that every single day. And you always say no. What are you saying no to?”
“A kiss.”
My jaw drops. “Are you serious? You guys haven’t kissed yet?”
“No.”
“Wow.”
“Is it that surprising?”
“Uh, yeah,” I reply emphatically. “I’m not gonna lie, we all talk about you guys. All the time.”
“Oh, that’s… okay,” she mumbles, her brow furrowing. “I did not know that.”
“Stranger Things isn’t back yet,” I explain by way of apology. “We’re bored. And you guys are so cute.”
“We’re not cute.”
“Campbell’s not, not usually, but he kind of is with you. I saw him holding your hand in the stables yesterday and I swear, he almost looked human.”
Jonnies grins. “That actually was kind of cute. My hands were cold. He was warming them.”
“It’s like you’re talking about a stranger.” I curl my legs up under my butt, turning on the couch to face her. “But seriously, hand holding and cuteness, but no kissing?”
She mirrors my position on the couch, pulling a pillow into her lap, and I suddenly realize I have a friend. It hits me hard out of nowhere and it leaves me breathless. I haven’t had one in a long time, but Jonnie and I have gotten pretty close over the last couple months. She’s only a little older than I am and she totally understands the isolation I’ve felt my whole life because of my ability. One, because she lived it in her own life. And two, because she saw a lot of it. She knew me before she knew me, and even though it feels like that should piss me off, it doesn’t. It makes things easier. I don’t have to tell her about Cara and how she died. She knows. She was there. And last week she told me she cried with me. It’s weird, but she’s like a sister I never knew I had. And I hope she feels the same way about me.
“He asked for a kiss as kind of a joke a couple months ago, but I also think he was testing the waters,” she explains about Campbell, her fingers tracing the blue piping on the pillow. “I said no, so he asked if he could the next day. Or the day after that. Or on and on. I kept saying no and now he asks me every day.”
“And you tell him no every day. Why? Do you not want to kiss him?”
She glances over her shoulder, checking to make sure he’s really gone because she knows him. She knows he’s tricky. “I do,” she admits, her eyes going wide with emphasis. “I really do, but I don’t know. How do I say yes now? It’s been months. It’d b
e weird, right? What if he’s not really asking anymore? What if it’s like this running gag of ours and if I suddenly say yes it will make it weird and ruin everything?”
“Campbell is a lot of things. A lot of creepy, odd, frustrating things, but he’s not a liar. If he’s asking you for a kiss, he wants one. He probably wants way more than one, but he’ll take what he can get.”
“And then what?”
I hesitate, squinting at her uncomfortably. “You mean sex? I don’t know if I can have that conversation. Not about Campbell.”
“No!” she laughs. “I mean, what happens after the kiss? What happens after we make out or hook up or whatever we do, and then we find Jokinen? The guys will go all Nick Fury and Max Payne on him—”
“Oh my God, he’s ruining you.”
“— and kick his ass, make the world safe for democracy again, and then what?” she continues, running out of air on her rant. This is definitely a worry she’s run over and over again in her head. She had that locked and loaded. “He’s not gonna stay here. No one is.”
“Do… do you want us to?” I ask hesitantly.
Jonnie looks down at her hands. Anywhere but at me. Anywhere that will hide the vulnerability in her eyes. “I don’t know,” she answers softly. “Maybe not everyone, but it would nice to not be alone all the time, you know?”
“Yeah. I definitely get that.”
She sighs, looking up at me with a weak grin. “But this is not a place for a guy like Campbell. And I don’t want to get attached if he’s going to leave. And he is going to leave. So I keep saying no. And I will keep on saying no. And it sucks.”
“You don’t think you’re already attached?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I ask dubiously, not buying it.
She shakes her head, not willing to admit it. But she knows it. So do I. She likes him. A lot. Maybe more than likes him, and the fact that he’s still waiting for a kiss after two long months tells me that he likes her too. More than I thought he was capable of caring about another human being.
“Did you know he leaves me a note under my door every morning?” she asks me softly.