“Go change into sweats, and I’ll meet you in the gym.”
“The gym…right.”
He turned and walked away, heading toward his room to get changed as well. With every step, a resounding voice in his head repeated, this is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, but he ignored said voice and continued on, his blood already boiling at the thought of what was to come.
Voices spoke on top of each other, throwing out different suggestions and plans as they tried to decide what their next step would be. Charlotte, Seamus and Michael seemed to be the only ones remaining quiet. Seamus had barely spoken a word since he regained consciousness a day ago. Charlotte was worried about him, but he didn’t look like he was in any mood to talk about it.
She sat on a chair, Pete on the floor between her legs, one of his arms wrapped around her calve, absent-mindedly massaging it. He’d been overly attentive since their arrival at his father’s house. She was still pretty black and blue from the beating she had suffered under her father’s orders, but there was no way she was going to spend any more time lying in bed. The only thing stopping her from walking out of the house was Pete, and she was sure this was part of the reason he kept a physical hold on her.
She was out of her element right now. For the past five years she had spent her life doing as Roman and Ludwig dictated. There was a routine, and structure, leaving no time for her to make any real decisions on her own. That was, until Ludwig had sent her to spy on Pete and his friends. Before that, she simply did not have a life beyond the New World order. Where would they go and what would they do now? Charlotte had absolutely no idea.
Their list of enemies seemed to be growing by the minute. But that wasn’t the worst part of it. She could deal with her father and his mindless drones that did his every bidding, no questions asked. What had her on edge was her sister. Even now, as she sat listening to everyone argue over what their next steps should be, Bridgette was at headquarters dressed as Charlotte. Her chest constricted every time she thought about it. What would happen if she got caught? The possibilities made her sick. Ludwig didn’t take kindly to betrayal. He’d make an example of Bridgette, not just to their father, but to Charlotte as well.
Something in her body language must have given away her thoughts. Pete gave her leg a gentle squeeze in response to her unspoken words, turning his head to kiss the inside of her thigh. No one took any notice of their casual, and frequent, displays of affection. It warmed her heart to see how easily they’d accepted her. She wasn’t used to this level of acceptance, or to this much social exposure. She felt herself breaking down more of the walls she had spent the last five years building the longer she spent time with the men in the room.
“Enough,” Michael said, his voice rising above the others. He didn’t yell. He simply spoke with more authority than anyone else, silencing them all. Charlotte had already decided she liked the man. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy. She could appreciate that. There was enough bullshit in this world without adding more pretence and lies. “The lot of you talking over one another is getting us nowhere.”
“We need to go back and see if they’ve left anything at the church,” Pete’s eldest brother, Trent said.
“What we need to do is go and get Bridgette,” she said, speaking for the first time. “I don’t give a shit about Douglas and his cronies, I want my sister back.”
“We all want Bridge back,” Pete said, patting her leg, “but there’s no way of getting her out at this point. That building is guarded at all times. Trust me, we’ve tried to find a way in before.”
Seamus snorted from his chair, but remained quiet. Charlotte glanced at Garrett, Pete’s younger brother, and saw him smiling at his brother.
“Would that be the time you ended up trapped on that fire escape?” Garrett asked, fighting back his laughter.
“I was only trapped up there, because you idiots took away the ladder,” Pete replied.
“Focus,” Michael interrupted, shaking his head. “I swear, you boys have the attention span of a fly.”
“I can get in,” Charlotte said, bringing everyone’s attention back to her.
“Absolutely not,” Pete said, just as Trent asked, “how?”
Pete glared at his brother. She couldn’t see his face, but she could tell from the way his shoulders tensed. “I said no.”
“Actually, you said absolutely not,” Garrett said with a grin.
Michael looked up at the ceiling, running his hand down his face. “Lord give me strength,” he muttered.
“It won’t be that difficult,” she said. “Getting in is easy. I’ll just walk in as myself. No one will stop me. It’s the getting out that might be tricky, but we can figure something out.”
Pete twisted so he was looking at her with an appalled expression. “That’s the worst damn plan I’ve heard yet.”
She bristled immediately. “I don’t see how,” she argued. “You guys haven’t even got past the guards at the eastern gates. At this rate, you’ll all be stuck here for the rest of your lives. At least I can make some progress. If we get Bridgette out, we can just leave here all together.”
“Really? You think your plan is that much better than ours?”
“You mean, the lack-there-of plan? Is that the plan of yours you’re referring to? Because, yeah, I think mine might be a tad better than yours,” she countered.
His eyes narrowed. “Riddle me this, oh-so-clever Charlotte. What are you going to do when people see you walking into the building, when there’s another Weapon X already inside? Did you suddenly develop cloning abilities as well?”
“The chances of that are slim,” she said. “I’ll go early in the morning when it’s unlikely Bridgette is even up. No one will have seen her yet.”
“You hope,” he replied.
“You can’t keep me here, Pete.”
A slow smile stretched across his face, his eyes bright with challenge. “Oh, sweetheart, there are endless possibilities for ways to keep you here. I have no problem exploring each and every one of them.”
Her blood heated instantly, something only Pete seemed to do to her. She was still getting used to the way her body reacted to him. She squirmed in the chair, trying her best to keep her face neutral. Her reaction didn’t go unnoticed by him, his smile widening.
“It’s too risky,” Michael said, breaking into the rising tension between them. Charlotte looked to the head of the McKays. “If you go in, there’s a chance we won’t be able to get you both out.”
“Exactly,” Pete said triumphantly. “There’s no way I’m losing you both.”
“She’s my sister,” she said, her voice catching against her will. “I can’t just leave her in there. I have to go.”
“No one is going anywhere,” came a thick, Scottish brogue from the now open front entrance.
CHAPTER FOUR
Why was she doing this? This was stupid. No, correction, this was incredibly stupid. With each step closer to the gym her feet felt heavier, as though she were walking through water. Her mind screamed that this was pushing the limits. Her best chance at staying undiscovered was to spend as little time as possible with Roman Adamson. And yet, she was still walking forward.
I must be insane, she decided. There was just something about Roman that made her want to be in his presence. Like a moth to a flame. She was definitely going to get burnt. Bridgette scratched at the tape holding down her breasts, miserable as ever. Now she was probably going to work up a sweat, which would only increase her discomfort. Especially since she had no intention of taking off her mask.
What was considered training here anyway? Bridgette stopped. Crap. Was she going to have to shoot a gun? She’d never shot one before, and she wasn’t sure she could handle something like that. It’s a gym, she reminded herself, highly unlikely place to be shooting guns. She started walking again. Maybe they’d just do some hits and kicks with bags. She could handle that. McKay had made her do that a few times with those pads he’d put on his ha
nds.
You sucked at that, she reminded herself. Damn, she did. Half the time she missed the target. Then again, she was never really trying those times. She’d try now. Really, really hard. Anything to make Roman believe she was Charlotte. Of course, she could have just stayed in her room, which would have been a much brighter idea, and would have offered no opportunity for her to give herself away.
Too late. The doors to the gym were just in front of her – the passage to her inevitable doom. Geez, when had she become so melodramatic? Squaring her shoulders, she walked through the doors with as much confidence as she could. W.W.C.D. She’d kick ass. So would Bridgette.
Roman was already there, no surprise. It had taken her a lot longer than she planned since she had realized too late that she had no idea where the gym even was. The soldier she’d asked must have been fairly new because he hadn’t looked the least bit surprised or suspicious when he gave her directions. That, or they were all just so scared of Weapon X, no one would consider raising the alarm over anything she did. Probably the latter, she decided. Charlotte seemed to have that effect on people. If only Bridgette could be more like her sister.
Roman stood with his back to her, his muscles flexing beneath his skin as he beat the bag in front of him in a steady rhythm. Bridgette had stopped just inside the doors, her eyes glued to his every movement. How could one person be so attractive? It wasn’t fair to the rest of the human species. His harsh breath came out with each blow, his dark hair pulled back to reveal the strong line of his jaw and high planes of his cheeks.
Sweat beaded along his skin, glistening in the lights. Bridgette got a sudden, unwanted urge to taste those tiny drops. His skin was smooth, tempting to touch. At this rate, she was going to go insane with lust before she could complete her task. Bridgette gave herself a mental shake, and reminded herself that this man was the second in command to a tyrant who had killed billions. He beat McKay and poor Seamus, leaving Seamus so broken she hadn’t even seen him wake up before she was taken away. Roman could have killed him. She should hate the man before her, not imagine what he looked like without his shirt on.
“Good, you’re here,” he said, wiping his face off with a towel. When had he stopped? “What took you so long?”
She shrugged, trying her best to act as nonchalant as she could. “I had a few things to do,” she offered lamely.
“Well let’s get started,” he said, seemingly accepting her answer. His hands gripped the hem of the sleeveless shirt he wore, pulling it over his head in one quick movement. Huh. So that’s what he looked like without a shirt. She was in so much trouble.
“Why are you wearing your mask?”
She blinked, taking a moment to reassemble her thoughts. Tearing her eyes away from the ripples on his stomach beckoning for her to stroke her fingers along them, she met his stare. Her mouth was dry and uncomfortable. “Uh…I just figured I should practice with it on. You know, since if I were to fight I’d be wearing it,” she answered. This was terrible.
He gave her a confused look but didn’t push the subject. “Let’s start with some bags,” he said, picking up the same kind McKay used and fitting them over his hands.
Great, she thought, she could totally do this. Easy peasy. She walked over to meet him in the middle of the blue mats that covered the gym floor. The air stank of stale sweat. When she got closer to Roman she caught his scent, which wasn’t nearly as repelling as the rest of the gym. He smelled like man, spice, and sweat. A delicious combination that had her closing her eyes for a second.
Get a grip, she scolded. She never reacted this way to a man. Why would Roman be any different? Head in the game, Bridgette. She stood in front of him, raising her fists in front of her face. A wry smile spread across his face.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
She looked down at herself then back to him. “No?”
He chuckled. “Where is your head today? You’ve seemed off all morning.”
She shrugged again in response. “I have a lot on my mind.”
His smile dropped away in a flash. Bridgette hated that she had done that to him. She much preferred him smiling. His face was solemn now, a look of understanding in his eyes.
“Right. Sorry,” he muttered. He turned and walked away from her, leaving Bridgette alone and confused in the middle of the room. What had she said? Obviously she was missing something. He grabbed two red boxing gloves from off the floor and walked back, handing them over wordlessly. Bridgette followed suit and didn’t speak as she pulled the gloves onto her hands.
“Ready?”
She looked up at the dark blue eyes that seemed almost black at times, and nodded. Was she ready? Probably not, but there was no going back now. Roman lifted his hands and waited.
Her heart started to race at the idea she was supposed to punch Roman Adamson. He kind of scared her. Okay, he terrified her. How was she going to punch him without instinctively worrying about some sort of retaliation? It’s Roman Adamson for goodness sake. A person doesn’t just walk up and punch him, and get away with it.
He watched her patiently as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her palms began to sweat inside the gloves.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked.
Divine intervention. Bridgette took a deep breath. No one was going to magically appear and save her from this, so she might as well get it over with. Lifting her hands in front of her face, she turned so her left foot was in front, and threw out her right hand, pivoting as she did. Her fist barely made an impact, his hand hardly moving. Roman’s lips twitched.
“Really, Lottey? That’s the best you’ve got? I know we haven’t trained in a while, but you can do better than that.”
Bridgette rolled her eyes, getting into position again. Focus, she told herself. It wasn’t that hard. Just hit the pad square in the middle, and try to put some strength behind it. How difficult could it be? She swung again, this time completely missing her target. Roman’s laughter rippled across her skin, causing goose bumps.
“Shut up,” she said, even though her lips twitched at his amusement. “Put your hands back up.”
His laughter ebbed, but a smile remained, distracting her once again. “You sure? You might hurt yourself.”
He was teasing her. Bridgette narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll hurt you if you don’t watch it. Now put your hands back up.” She was surprised by herself. That might have sounded a lot like something Charlotte would say, but it was genuinely coming from her this time. She’d show Roman she wasn’t as weak as she appeared. She could do this.
“At this rate, I doubt you could hurt a fly.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she replied, hopping on her feet now. “What? You scared I’ll just get better and then take you down?”
His smile stretched wider as his hands rose again, his feet braced apart. “I’m not scared of anything, darling.”
Bridgette ignored the rush that his endearment caused and focused on her target. When she swung this time, something felt different. She couldn’t pinpoint what, but her movement suddenly seemed fluid, her fist connecting at just the right speed and strength. There was a loud smacking sound as she hit his pad. Roman grunted, his eyes widening.
“Nice shot,” he said appreciatively.
Bridgette smiled, hopping on her feet again. It was a good shot! She’d even made his hand move a little.
“Again,” he ordered, “And follow-up with the left.”
They continued like this, Bridgette doing combinations, her punches landing with a smack. She felt exhilarated. Her movements became increasingly more graceful and natural. Finally he called a halt to it, shaking out his hands.
“I’m impressed,” he said with a smile as they put the pads and gloves away.
“Thanks,” she replied, grinning like an idiot beneath her mask.
“Let’s work on some hand-to-hand now.”
Bridgette watched him walk back to the centre of the mats, frozen in place. Hand-to-hand? Sh
e didn’t think that sounded like a good idea. He waited expectantly for her to join him, his eyes burning with something she didn’t understand. Walking slowly to where he stood, she stopped in front of him, unsure of what to do next.
He didn’t give her much time to think as he made his first move. She was so surprised, that in the next instant she found herself surrounded by his body. His arms were like steel bands around her torso, her arms pinned to her sides. His breath warmed her ear as his chest felt like fire flush against her back. She didn’t even try to fight, her senses overwhelmed by his nearness. Even when he’d visit her at the Red Lounge where she used to work as a dancer, they’d never touched to this degree. It was heady and felt disturbingly nice. She should step away, or do something to free herself, but instead she found her body melting into his.
“Gottcha,” he whispered in her ear. Did he ever. He had no idea how his simple presence affected her. She both hated it and loved it. “Now what are you going to do?”
Words were too difficult, so she simply shrugged within his embrace. He chuckled, his chest vibrating against her back. His arms dropped away. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn he seemed as reluctant to sever the contact as she was.
They faced each other again. This time she paid better attention, pushing down her reaction to him and concentrating on what she needed to do. Bridgette would not let this man cloud her mind any more. She was here for a purpose, and no one was going to distract her from that.
When he came at her the second time she was prepared. Moving lithely, she ducked under his arms, and stepped to the side, sending him barreling forward into empty space. She turned quickly, waiting for him to come again. His arms snaked out, but caught at nothing as she ducked and dived beneath them. On and on it went, Roman trying to catch her or land a hit, his arms, legs, hands all working to achieve even the briefest of touches – all of them failing.
Bridgette moved faster than she had ever moved before. Her body twisted and turned effortlessly, most likely the result of her years of dance. What caught her by surprise was the speed in which she was doing it. Roman was by no means an unworthy opponent. Each attack was calculated and executed with precision. He wasn’t out to hurt her, but he was definitely out to win this little sparring match. Even though he was quick, Bridgette seemed to be quicker.
02 Masked-New World Page 4