Taken By Choice (Taken Trilogy Book 3)

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Taken By Choice (Taken Trilogy Book 3) Page 9

by Jessica Frances


  I shake off the memory and feel lighter for it. I take the towels over to the wash bag in the corner and quickly pile them all up. I pick up the padded gloves lying around and throw them into a box next to the wash bag. I survey the room one last time and then take another deep breath before facing the door. I need to get to the door, make my feet leave. After that, I’ll need to get down to my room to grab fresh clothing for my shower before dinner.

  I picture Dana’s smile one last time and feel my feet propel me forward. This has been easier than expected. My fear seems a little silly now. Just because I have one bad experience in here doesn’t mean I need to fear every empty room or shadow. Being on the run for so long has made me edgy. I’ll have a heart attack by the time I’m thirty if I keep this up.

  I fly around the corner and straight into Ethan who is leaning against the wall.

  I embarrassingly squeal in fear. “What are you doing?” I gasp, straightening myself up.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He holds his hands out to me as if to steady me, but he doesn’t touch me. “Just wanted to say I told you so before dinner.” He smiles cheekily at me before turning around and leaving.

  I rush after him. “You told me so for what?”

  “You didn’t think you could do it, I knew you could,” he says smugly. He opens the door to the stairwell and we slowly make our way down it.

  “Yeah, well, I’m hungry.” I shrug off Ethan’s words, trying not to feel happy I pleased him.

  “Whatever got you out the door works for me. Now,about tomorrow—”

  “Let’s leave that for tomorrow. Training Zoe has switched off and I’m currently Relaxing Zoe.”

  “Well, let me be the first to tell you that you both look quite similar,” he jokes.

  “That’s because I’ve yet to shower.” I walk passed him as he holds the door open for me and keep walking towards my room. Usually Ethan walks me to my door, but I notice he stays by the stairs. I assume this is another test and I look back before I turn the corner to see him smiling at me before his face is replaced by the corner I pass.

  ***

  “How are you feeling?” Charlie comes into what I assume is meant to be our room, holding a tray table with soup, toast, juice and water. I look back at the fake me lying nervously in their bed. She doesn’t appear much older than I am now, but her face is pale and an empty bucket sits next to the bed.

  “Not so bad now.” She looks down at her hands and rips away at one of her nails.

  “You still don’t look so good.” Charlie puts the miniature table down next to her and rests his hand over her forehead. “You don’t feel too hot. I think I should take you to the doctors tomorrow, make sure you’re okay.”

  “I actually went today.”

  “You did? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have taken you.” Charlie sits down on the edge of the bed and takes hold of her hand before she can start ripping another nail.

  “It was last minute. I called to make an appointment for tomorrow and they had a cancelation today so I took that instead.”

  “What did they say was wrong?”

  “She took a blood test.”

  “Does that mean she doesn’t know what’s wrong?”

  “No, she’s pretty sure she knows.” When she looks away from Charlie, I don’t understand her reluctance to tell him what’s wrong.

  “Zoe, what is it?” The concern in Charlie’s voice makes my heart skip a beat. I watch her wince at his words.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to say.”

  “You’re just going to leave me not knowing? I’m worried, Zoe. Whatever it is, we can work through this. I’m here for you.” Charlie squeezes her hand and, when her face pales even further, I know what’s coming.

  I grimace and look away from them, just seeing her quickly reach for the bucket by the bed and hurl into it. I look back once the horrible noises stop to see Charlie holding her hair and stroking her back.

  “Zoe, let me help you. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

  I watch him help her get out of bed and she stands in front of the sink in the bathroom, washing her mouth out several times. I look at Charlie’s reflection in the mirror, seeing only worry and stress coming from him.

  “The doctor thinks I might be… I might be…” She looks away from Charlie’s reflection and takes a deep breath. “I might be pregnant.”

  I watch his face turn from shock, to happiness, to worry before it finally settles on excitement.

  “Are you serious? That’s great news!” He moves forward and unexpectedly picks her up, twirling her around the bathroom. I smile at his antics. She’s looking paler as she hits him hard in the shoulder, though. He quickly sets her down where she turns to the sink and hangs her head over it for a few moments. The sickness must pass without any need to vomit, however, and she slowly stands up straight.

  “You’re not happy about it?” Charlie’s smile slowly begins to fade.

  “I don’t know what I am other than feeling incredibly sick. The doctor seems to think I’ve got a bad case of morning sickness and it should pass eventually.”

  “How sure is she that you’re pregnant?”

  “I peed on a stick and it came up positive. She took a blood test to confirm. Are you sure you’re happy about this?” She sounds nervous. I think I see her shaking.

  “Are you kidding? I want this more than anything!”

  “I don’t know how to be a mom.”

  “No one knows how before they become one, Zoe, and I know you’re going to be the best mom in the world.”

  “How do you know?” She looks up and locks her eyes with his in the mirror.

  “I just do, you must know it, too. Come on, do you have any trade secrets? Boy or girl?”

  “I’m not going to tell you that. I don’t know it anyway.” She smiles and glances down, making me think she does know something.

  “Yeah, right.” Charlie rolls his eyes, but the smile returns to his face and he moves forward to hug her tightly to him. “I’m so happy right now. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 9 –The Games

  March 2nd

  My first Saturday here proves to be scarier than I realized it would be. I’m told by Ethan that we’ll be competing in the last round of the mock missions, since only five teams at a time can go into the shed we’re competing in. Most pairs are new to each other, but everyone has more experience than I do. They all come from military backgrounds so everyone is fit and knows what they’re doing. Me, on the other hand, I’m the opposite of all that.

  At least I don’t have to compete against the others. We’re all in separate rounds. I wasn’t sure who the other partners were, but Charlie has mentioned his guy is good. Corby came out of medical last night, but has so far kept his distance, and I’m thankful he is in the first round to compete. As teams emerge from the shed, it isn’t hard to realize what they’ve been doing. They all have paint splattered over them.

  “All right, it’s paintball! I’ve only had one mock doing this one.” Ethan cheers. “Have you ever played paintball?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I have a good feeling about this.”

  “I wouldn’t get your hopes up. I don’t shoot well.” Or at all, if I can help it.

  “I know you don’t see yourself as an asset, but I think you’re gonna be my wild card.”

  “That’s because I’m not an asset, Ethan.” I roll my eyes at him. He’s in for a rude awakening if he thinks having me as his partner is a good thing.

  “Holloway, you’re psychic. What part of that isn’t an asset?” He teases my name just as I tease his.

  “I’m not psychic and my name is Zoe.”

  “Well, my name is Mac and, fine, you’re not exactly psychic, but I know you’re strong. We will make a great team.”

  “When this is over and we lose, do we get a punishment?” I eye the circuit next to us that I luckily haven’t had to endure sinc
e my first training day.

  “Not unless you get called in for breaking the rules.”

  “What are the rules?”

  “I don’t know; whatever Shane decides I guess.”

  “Sounds safe,” I say sarcastically.

  “The idea is that we don’t follow a set of rules, you do whatever is necessary to win the fight.”

  “But we’re only fighting each other; what’s the big deal?”

  “This is serious, Holloway, we’re not playing. What you learn here will save you when you’re out in the field.”

  “Have you been out on missions and stuff?”

  “I’ve been on a few.” He sounds distant all of a sudden, his fun edge disappearing from his words.

  “What did you have to do?”

  “It’s not something you talk about.”

  “Was it…” I want to ask if it’s scary, but I can’t find the words.

  “You’ll be fine. Just follow your instincts.”

  “Even if they want me to run and hide?”

  “With enough training here, that thought won’t even occur to you.” He sounds so sure of himself that I wonder if he’s ever been scared before. “So we didn’t really focus on weapons training, how bad are we talking here?”

  “I will never fire a gun, ever.”

  “What about this, though? It’s only got paint in it, no bullets.”

  “I hate guns.”

  “Righty-o. You can be my eyes then, and I’ll just point and shoot. We can address this little issue later.”

  “It’s not something that I’m going to change my mind about,” I say angrily, annoyed at how dismissive he sounds.

  “If you fear nothing, Holloway, then nothing can hurt you or scare you. Work on your fears until they’re gone. You will face this sooner or later. You might as well make it on your own terms.”

  I shake my head, not willing to hear what Ethan is saying. “They’re evil.”

  “So is pop music and yet that crap still plays on the radio.”

  I don’t have an answer to that. Instead, I lose my attention to Charlie and his partner running into the Shed, paint guns at the ready. They disappear from view and I worry for him.

  “It’s just paint. Your boyfriend is going to be fine.”

  “What about you, you got a girlfriend?” I think back to my dream of Ethan. Was that really us together in the future? What happens between Charlie and me?

  “I’ve got my eye on someone.”

  “Really?” I feel my nerves spike up.

  “Yeah, the doc is pretty cool.”

  “Doctor Pratt?” I’ve only bothered to remember her name, so if it isn’t her, then I’ll be at a loss. Well, unless it’s Harold, and while Ethan being gay would make me feel relieved, I’d have to wonder at his taste since Harold is old, huge and zero personality.

  “Yeah, she’s nice.” He gives me a small smile.

  “She is.” She has shown me a lot of kindness, considering she works for P.A.G.E..

  His smile turns to a frown. “I think she might have a thing for Agent Goodings, though. She asks a lot of questions about him.”

  “Ew.” I can’t think of anything worse except maybe Harold. “I guess she’s blind and stupid then,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Some women like older men. I can’t really compete with that.” He shrugs, willing to give up easily.

  I turn to him, taking in his defeated stance. “You’re old; what are you, like thirty? Forty?”

  “Hey, I’m twenty-nine. I have six more months before you can box me into the next decade,” he mocks being offended.

  “How about I try to be less of a wimp out here, and you try to be less of a wimp when it comes to Doctor Pratt?” I suggest. Perhaps that is what I need to do, focus on getting Ethan a girlfriend.

  “All right, I can do that.” He nods, smiling again.

  We sit in silence for a while as the cold wind moves my hair into my face. I put it up into a ponytail. My worry for Charlie increases the longer he is in the shed so I try to think of a different topic to talk to Ethan about.

  “How long have you been in the military for?” I think he might have told me before, but I can’t remember anymore.

  “I joined when I was eighteen.”

  “Do you get to go home much?”

  “I don’t really have one. Mom died when I was young. I’m an only child and my dad was in the military. He died four years ago.” He eyes the shed, not looking back over to me while he speaks.

  “And you’re not sick of this life?”

  “This is the only life I’ve known.” He shrugs, finally dragging his eyes to meet mine. He looks sad.

  “Don’t you want to take a year off? Go travel the world, have every day be a sleep in, have a break and live life? Maybe start a family?”

  “I want to serve my country. I love my job.” The sadness disappears and duty takes over his features.

  I shake my head, but I’m again distracted when I see two people emerging from the Shed. They’re both covered in paint and I narrow my eyes to see if it’s Charlie.

  “If you’re going to be my eyes, then you’re going to need to give me a bit more faith in your eyesight,” he jokes.

  “It’s bright out here,” I complain, blaming the glare of the gloomy sky. I notice it’s not Charlie and I go back to watching the shed.

  Charlie is one of the last to emerge. He has paint splattered across his back, however his partner has a lot more spots over him. I get a quick wave off to him before he disappears back into The Mansion. We’ve been told that we have to refrain from talking to the “enemy” until after the mock mission is finished.

  Finally it’s our turn, and I stand outside of a door next to Ethan, waiting for the light bulb above the door to flash red. It’s our signal that we are to enter, and all five teams will come through a different door. We’re wearing helmets and a vest, but other than that, we’re exposed. I have never been hit by a paintball, but from what I’ve heard, it’s not fun. Ethan checks both our guns and says they’re not filled to capacity. He thinks we’ll have no more than twenty shots each. That seems like a lot to me, however Ethan is frowning.

  Long minutes pass before the light turns red and I stick close to Ethan’s back as we move quietly through the door and quickly find a stack of crates to hide behind. The Shed looks more like a large warehouse. There are two levels to it and several obstacles surrounding us.

  My heart beats faster and harder as adrenaline pumps through me. I keep my paintball gun swung around my back and out of my way. I know I’m causing us a massive disadvantage by not wanting to use it, but after what happened to Dana, Joel and at The Core, I can’t take any more guns. Even if it’s just filled with paint.

  I try to stay alert as Ethan leads us passed the crates and we move over to some large, sterile, white piping piled up as high as my shoulders.

  “See anything?” Ethan whispers.

  “No—” I begin to whisper back, but stop when I hear footsteps approaching us. I hit Ethan’s arm and point to our left. He nods his head once, and I duck down as he readies the gun.

  He fires twice and swearing confirms they are hits.

  “Come on.” He quietly jogs away, and I stumble after him. No matter how much training I have, I doubt I’ll be able to move as silently and gracefully as he does. His whole stance just screams discipline.

  I feel a sense of dread hit me and pull down on his arm. He stumbles down just as a shot of paint flies over us. He is quick to reply. I stay down, avoiding his retaliation hitting me.

  “Move,” he grunts. We take off, staying low to the ground. I look back, seeing shadows approaching us. When he stops us, I point upwards and he nods again before leading us up the stairs. He carefully assesses them before he races up, me close behind. The second level reminds me of a motel setup; a balcony level that you can see over the edge to the ground below. Along it are rooms all with open doorways.

  He gets the advantag
e with our speed. From the second level we have a clear view of the area we’ve just been in.

  Ethan crouches down and aims at the two women dodging through the obstacles. He again only takes two shots to get them. We don’t wait around to hear their complaints. He rushes us down along the balcony and we take cover, watching out for anyone else.

  I feel a shiver run over my body and look back behind us. I don’t see anyone, but I know there are eyes on us.

  “We’re being watched.”

  “Where?” Ethan tenses, his body is alert, his finger holding steady over the trigger.

  “Behind us.”

  He moves me back so he is now in front of me. His eyes narrow, taking in the shadows, looking for who is watching us.

  I feel the shiver again, and it’s again from behind us except now we are facing the other way. They’re coming at us from both sides.

  “They split up. We’re trapped,” I hiss, pulling on his arm. Without question, he follows my lead as we rush into a room, trapping us in the confines of it. Ethan points his gun at the entrance and I hide behind him.

  After several minutes of nothing, Ethan growls at me, “They’re going to try and wait us out.”

  I glance around us. There are no other exits out of this room. “Do we get in trouble for damaging this place?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there are rooms that run all along here, these walls look thin. If we can break through one, then we’ll have the upper hand. They’ll be waiting for us at the wrong room.”

  “Smart. See, I told you that you’ll be an asset.” Ethan let’s go of his gun, hanging it across his back on the strap.

  I watch him eye the wall to our left that looks old and decayed. He kicks it and his leg goes right through. He pulls it back and then kicks it again, creating a bigger hole. A third kick gives us a hole big enough to fit through. He gets his gun ready, carefully moving through. I follow as he quietly crawls to the open doorway. From this advantage we see one of the men watching the wrong room. Ethan doesn’t hesitate shooting him. He quickly finds the other one on the other side and again only needs one shot to hit him. They both curse, having been eliminated.

 

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