Reborn

by Fall, Carly

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Trying to focus on herself, she went for her bag and pulled out her underwear and bra, a pair of jeans and button-down white shirt. She debated shoes, but she noticed Abby was barefoot last night. What was good for the goose was good for the gander.

  Or whatever.

  She pulled a comb through her hair, deciding to let it dry naturally, and she also skipped the makeup. She heard the shower turn off and braced herself, preparing to resume the role of physician and bypass the need of a woman who desperately wanted to be touched by someone as beautiful and exciting as Hudson. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she tried to get herself back into doctor mode and put her inner-nympho away. Professional. Detached.

  No more thoughts of Hudson naked.

  “Bev?” he called from the bathroom. “Bev, are you still here?”

  She went to the door. “Yes. What do you need?” She silently prayed for and hoped that he would say something like he needed her in the shower naked with him.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. So much for resuming the role of physician. She simply had to quit with the carnal thoughts about Hudson.

  “I…I forgot my clothes. I was wondering if you could grab me a pair of sweats and maybe a button-down shirt from the closet.”

  She didn’t hesitate. Clothes were good. “Sure. Just give me a minute.” She went to the dresser and found a pair of black sweats, then opened up another drawer and found some black silk boxers. Hurrying over to the closet, she threw open the doors, his scent engulfing her. A low whistle left her lips as she took in the huge collection of clothing. As she fingered through the shirts, she read the labels: Armani, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, and Hermes. Hudson had quite a wardrobe. She found a white button-down shirt, but then changed her mind. His bruises and stitches would show through the fabric, and she thought it would be best if people didn’t see that, although she thought most had already seen the raw wounds. But if a stitch came loose and he began to bleed…

  She chose a black cotton button-down shirt that wouldn’t outline any of his wounds or show any blood if one of the stitches decided to bleed. And the blood would wash out of the cotton, not so much with the silk shirts.

  Quickly, she walked to the bathroom and softly knocked. The door opened and Hudson’s dark eyes met hers. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and he held out a hand for the clothes. She felt her breath catch and handed them to him. “It might be hard to get the shirt on. Let me know, and I can help you.”

  He nodded, took the clothes, and shut the door.

  She heard some hisses, a few curses, and then, “Bev?”

  She opened the door and walked in. He didn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his hands holding him up against the sink, “but you were right. I can’t get the shirt on. Wrestling with the sweats just about did me in.”

  She grabbed the shirt from the floor. “Let me help you,” she said quietly, holding up one arm of the shirt so he didn’t have to stretch his chest or midriff. Once that arm was through, she maneuvered the shirt so he could get his other arm in.

  As he buttoned his shirt, she noticed he was struggling, weak from the shower and trying to get dressed. Moving to the front of him, she said, “Let me.”

  She didn’t meet his eyes as she lined up his buttons and began fastening them. When she reached the bottom, she continued her eye-level stare straight into his chest. Her breathing was shallow, and she wanted nothing more than to put her head against the large plane in front of her, wrap her arms around his waist, and not move for something close to eternity.

  And lick him. Yes, she definitely wanted to lick him.

  But back to pretending to be a physician. Patient-client rules needed to be followed. Rule number one: You don’t kiss or lick your patient. Rule number two: You don’t hug your patient. Rule number three: You don’t think about all the ways you wanted your patient to sex you up.

  You remain at a distance and unattached.

  She finally looked up at him and smiled. “I think you’re ready,” she said softly as she stepped away.

  He nodded. “Let’s get out of here for a while, Bev,” he said, taking her hand. She didn’t move, but looked down at his big paw engulfing her slender fingers.

  “Sorry,” he said, letting go of her hand. “Sorry. But yeah, let’s get out of here.”

  She felt as though she had just hit her hand on the burners of a hot oven, except it didn’t hurt. The energy and heat rippling through her from his touch made her catch her breath, and she briefly looked down at her hand, sure she would see a burn mark.

  Hudson slowly made his way across the room to the door leading to the elevator. His big body moved with grace, even though it was battered and bruised. She caught up to him, tempted to grab his hand to see if she had imagined the energy between them, but she didn’t.

  When they reached the main living area, Beverly heard laughter before the doors to the elevator opened. When the steel wall separated in half to reveal the kitchen, Rayner, Faith, Noah, Abby, and another man she didn’t know were all standing around. Rayner had Faith’s back pulled to his chest, looking as if he would never let her go. They were laughing at something Noah had said. Noah had his arm flung over Abby’s shoulder. The other man she didn’t recognize was standing over the stove with his back to her.

  When everyone heard the elevator open, all heads turned to them. Beverly and Hudson were greeted with smiles and hellos as they stepped into the kitchen. The man Beverly didn’t know stepped forward. He was as tall and muscular as the other men, and his dark eyes glittered with mischief, his smile blinding. His dark hair was cut short with military precision, and he wore a t-shirt that had a picture of a piñata on it, and under the picture it read, I’d hit that.

  “Hi Beverly. I’m Talin.” He stuck his hand out, and Beverly shook it, smiling at him, amused by his shirt and appreciative of his friendly demeanor.

  “Nice to meet you, Talin.”

  He turned to Hudson, his face growing serious. “How’re you feeling man? Heard you got caught up in some nasty shit.”

  Hudson nodded. “Yeah. I’m doing okay. Bev has been an excellent doctor.”

  Beverly felt herself blush.

  “So what are you doing in my kitchen, Talin? Please don’t tell us you’re cooking macaroni and cheese for breakfast. Or worse yet, cereal.”

  Talin smiled. “We were actually in a heated debate on Rice Krispies or Frosted Flakes. If you’re feeling well enough to step up to the plate, have at it.”

  Beverly watched Hudson out of the corner of her eye while he contemplated whether or not he was up for cooking. In her opinion, he wasn’t. But then he looked down at her and asked, “Can you give me a hand, Bev?”

  She nodded, and Hudson told everyone to get out of the kitchen. “Those assholes have no idea how to even turn on the oven,” he murmured with a slight grin. “And I bet that lasagna last night was something they got out of the frozen food aisle.”

  She smiled. It was terribly obvious to her that he cared deeply about the people in this house, and they cared for him. She found herself envious of the family he had, and a little sad for herself that her family had been taken away, and she would never have one of her own.

  “I’m not very good in the kitchen either, Hudson,” she said. “I’m probably more a hindrance than a help.”

  He looked at her a moment and shook his head. He then slowly made his way to the fridge. As he dug around in there he said, “The kitchen is the central place of any house. It’s where sustenance is given to those who live there. And hopefully, it’s healthy. If it’s healthy food that’s prepared, then you are helping to make those you serve the best that they can be. Would you mind bending down to grab the spinach, Bev?”

  She opened one of the refrigerator’s lower drawers. There were a few bundles of greens, and she was grateful that they were all marked with a twist tie indicating exactly what each was.

  “Don’t you cook at home, Beverly?
” Hudson asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I rarely cook.”

  “How come?” he asked.

  Standing up, she met his eyes. “Long hours at the hospital, time constraints, exhaustion.”

  Hudson didn’t say anything, just stared at her. “Do you like to cook?” he asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders and looked at the wall, memories flooding her thoughts. “I don’t know, Hudson. It’s been so many years since I’ve even tried…”

  When she had lived with her mom, she had dabbled in cooking every now and then, but she had been so busy with school that she rarely had time. When she was using drugs, she hadn’t given much thought to eating. While in rehab, her meals were prepared for her. Now out of for seventy-two hours, she had managed to get herself kidnapped, and she really hadn’t given much thought to cooking.

  After a moment, she finally met his eyes. She had never thought of a meal meaning anything more that sustenance for the body, but she could see where his thought processes came from. Going by Hudson’s definition of what the kitchen meant, which was a place that provided love, she was once again reminded of the family she had lost, and the biological family she would never have.

  “That’s too bad, Bev,” Hudson said quietly. His eyes were sad, sad for her, and she hated that. After a moment, that grin that showed his dimple, the one she had grown to like, crossed his face. He gave her nose a gentle flick with the tip of his index finger. It could have been interpreted as friendly, or a little tap given by a lover. “But today, you help me. We’ll prepare something healthy for everyone in the house. When we’re done, we’ll know that we’ve given them something nutritious that they probably wouldn’t have been able to get for themselves. Because you sure as shit can’t get good nutrition out of a cardboard box. We’ll know that we’ve given a little something of ourselves in the meal, given them a small stepping stone to their health. Not to mention a full stomach. A good meal always brings out the best in people. So not only will we be contributing to the well-being of their health, we will be making them happy, giving them a sense of contentment within themselves. That way they’ll be able to love each other a little better.”

  Selfless. He was selfless. All of her thoughts since meeting him had been about his beauty and his raw sexiness. But before her stood a man who truly cared about the well-being of those around him.

  This kind of threw her for a loop. On top of everything he had just said, she remembered the vulnerability in him last night as he clung to her in between the vomiting sessions. His outward appearance and his inner being were in conflict with each other. She remembered him before he was battered and bruised at the hotel. His fine clothing, his impeccable grooming, and a confident, almost arrogant air about him had caught her eye. Yes, he was sexy, but there was more to the man than a pretty package. Here he was caring deeply for those in this house, as well as needing her to soothe him through his illness.

  “Okay, Hudson,” she said. She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  When everything was chopped, diced, and on the stove cooking, she met Hudson’s eyes. “You’re an excellent teacher,” she said softly.

  “And you, Beverly,” he said with that grin that showed his dimple and a wink, “are a wonderful student.”

  Chapter 17

  “So what happened, Hudson? And what are we going to do with Beverly?”

  He sat around the table with Rayner, Noah, and Talin in the War Room. One wall had a large white screen that they used for Skype calls when they were in different parts of the world, to go over reports, street maps, and other miscellaneous stuff as a group. Two walls were ceiling-to-floor glass. They had shut the door as there seemed to be a history of the females either eavesdropping in on their conversations, or overhearing them yelling at each other when things got heated. Rayner and Noah wanted Faith and Abby as far away from their work as possible, and they couldn’t risk Beverly finding out more than she already knew. For their safety, as well as hers. If she were to ever find out that there was another species on this planet and ended up telling the wrong people—like the government—they would stop at no end to get information. The Six Saviors knew that there were no boundaries the government wouldn’t cross. They had kept tabs on that poor bastard down in Area 51. He had been abused in the name of science in ways that even made them cringe.

  The black shiny marble table reflected Hudson’s image back at him. Damn that Colonist. He had done a job on his face. As he studied his swollen eye, the cut on his lip, and the multi-colored bruises on his face, he thought of the best way to be truthful without actually divulging many details, like the fact that he had gone there to commit suicide, or that the Colonist was supposed to be the concierge who would have delivered his suicide note to Noah. As he rehearsed his words, he didn’t see any way that they could find out that nasty, little detail unless he told them about it.

  “Well, short version is that I answered the door and the fucker tasered me.”

  “And the long version? How did he get the best of you, Hudson? In all of our existence I’ve never seen anyone get the upper hand on you,” Noah said.

  Hudson shrugged and looked at his friend. “I wasn’t expecting it. I was hung over and tired. Got me a little action the night before and didn’t sleep much. I was expecting room service, but when I opened the door I got four hundred volts instead of bacon and eggs.”

  There was silence around the table while Noah eyed him. “Okay,” he said quietly. “So what did he look like? Why didn’t he just put you six feet under?”

  “We need a description. Tell us what you remember,” Talin said.

  With a sigh, Hudson sat back in his chair. He shut his eyes and thought about the Colonist. “Based on the description Faith gave after her run-in a few months ago, I’d bet your left nut that it’s the same guy.”

  Hudson heard Rayner let out something close to a growl, while Noah and Talin cursed.

  “Hudson,” Talin said, “bet your own nuts. Mine are off limits.”

  “You know I never bet my nuts, always someone else’s.”

  For reasons still unknown to them, the Colonist had been targeting redheads. He had kidnapped Faith, and she had almost died. Rayner had been the one to save her from his clutches, they had fallen in love, and the rest was history. However, the Colonist knew where the silo was, as he had followed Rayner, Hudson, and Faith there after a run-in downtown. The Colonist had also followed Rayner and Faith to her parents’ house where he killed them, and came very close to getting Faith.

  Despite their best efforts to hunt him down, the Colonist had disappeared, and they hadn’t had any sign of him in months.

  It looked like the fucker was back. Hudson hadn’t had any contact with the guy when he was after Faith, but now that Hudson had had a little one-on-one time with the Colonist, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew him.

  “He must have been hanging around the silo again and followed me when I left,” Hudson said.

  “So why was he practicing carving his Thanksgiving turkey on you?” Talin asked.

  Hudson told him that the Colonist wanted the code to get into the silo so he could kill all the Warriors. “Obviously I didn’t give it up.”

  All three stared at him. “Wow,” Talin said with a low whistle. “Thanks, man. You went through a lot to protect us. We owe you.”

  Hudson didn’t meet his eyes, because he knew he would see some sort of admiration or respect that he didn’t deserve. If his fellow Warriors knew why he had been at the hotel—to end his own life—there wouldn’t be respect or admiration, but disgust. They would be asking how in the world he could abandon them in their mission, and why he didn’t come to them for help.

  But really, what could he do? He was destroyed on the inside from the wrecking ball named Iris.

  I like you, but I’ll never love you. Damn. Not even being tortured by a Colonist hurt as bad as that.

  He once
again tuned in to what the Warriors were saying. They were still thanking him, giving him accolades for his bravery.

  He’d heard enough.

  “Really, guys, knock it off,” he bit out with a little more force than he intended.

  They shut up, and the silence was almost deafening.

  Noah cleared his throat. “Okay. Well, we know he’s back, and we know that he knows we’re around. If any of you leave the silo, I want you fully armed and make sure to watch your back. And I know they aren’t going to be happy about this, but Abby and Faith aren’t allowed outside the inner fence without one of us. Fully armed. And we need to start hunting him again. We should get into that hotel room as well. I’m sure it’s been cleaned, but we can still take a look around. Talk to some people at the hotel and see what we can come up with. So let’s divide up the workload…”

  Hudson tuned out again, as he knew he wouldn’t be involved in doing anything until Cohen and Jovan got back and he could be healed.

  He heard deep rumbling voices as a background to his thoughts. They had landed on Bev. He was getting the feeling that the pretty Beverly was hiding something. What, he had no idea. Maybe she was married? There was no ring, and he hadn’t seen her with a male at the hotel. He didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to spend time speculating. He figured he would get his answers after this little powwow with his fellow Warriors.

  His thoughts turned to the kitchen preparing breakfast with Beverly. They had chatted about nothing in particular while he told her what to do, and sometimes showed her how to do it. He held her hand while he guided her through the fine cutting of mushrooms, and again to show her the art of flipping an omelet, which required a flick of the wrist that was only acquired by practice, time, and a devoted teacher.

  Actually, he had just wanted to hold her hand again, to stand behind her and be close to her.

  “And Hudson? We need to get Beverly out of here A.S.A.P. The less she knows about us, the better off she’ll be.”