Heart of the Warrior (32 page)

"Get out of my head, Micah."

"Funny. Sam says that to me all the time. And
yet…." He cocked his head, leaving the thought unfinished.

Yeah, the message was clear. Micah wouldn't be stopping his
thought intrusion anytime soon. As if he could. And Io had learned long ago
that he couldn't.

Sam wrapped her arm around Micah’s waist. "Stop it,
honey. Come on, aren’t you tired? I am. Let’s go up to your dorm and get some
sleep."

The sun was already up, so Io was trapped here until
nightfall. Fuck! Trapped with a couple of faggots and a freak.

Trace strode around the corner. "Is he okay?"

"Where have you been?" Tristan said.

"Out." Trace shrugged out of his coat, and it was
obvious he didn’t have plans to go into detail about his whereabouts for the
past several hours. Wherever it was, the guy looked way more chilled than he
had six hours ago.

Micah pulled Trace into a one-armed man-hug, and the two
exchanged solemn glances before Trace looked down to the floor. Micah glanced
around for Sam and wound his other arm around her waist.

"How's Sev?" Trace asked, looking back up.

Micah gently clapped his shoulder. "He's okay. Ari's in
with him." He ran his palm over Trace's bald melon. "Sam and I were
just going to get some sleep. You wanna crash with us?"

Trace nodded. "Yeah, sure. I’m beat." The corner
of Trace’s mouth ticked as if he'd just made a joke.

Micah grinned and looked away as if he got the punch line no
one else in the room was privy to. Then the three turned and headed out without
another look in Io's direction.

Tristan stretched. "Me, too. I need to get back to
Josie." He looked at Lakota, who stood away from the rest, his head bowed.
"Lakota, come on. I’ll find you a room for the day."

"I want to stay here. I want to be near my son."

Tristan shook his head. "I don’t think that’s a good
idea right now. Come on, let him rest and then you can try to talk to him
tomorrow."

Lakota relented with a sigh and followed Tristan out.

Malek glanced up at Io. "I’m going to go check on the
prisoner. You need anything?"

Io shook his head, still too numb to think. "No."

"Interesting night, wasn’t it?"

"You could say that."

"Okay, well give me a shout if you need anything."
Malek exited the medical wing, leaving Io all alone in the hall.

Arion. Gay. Homo. Fag. Io felt like punching something.
Yeah, like Arion's face. His best friend was…he cringed…gay.

A feminine moan caught his ear from the room across the hall
and he looked up. The cobalt overdose.

Io shivered and ran his hand through his thick crop of brown
hair before scratching his fingertips back and forth over his scalp like it
itched. But that’s what remembering his own cobalt addiction did to him, made
him itch all over. He pushed away from the wall and worked his blunt nails up
and down his tattooed right arm then over his collarbone as he walked to the
door and pushed it open.

The female was sitting up in bed, her head bent forward so
that all he could see was long, black hair hanging down over her face.

"Hey," he said quietly.

She lifted her head and brushed aside her hair with one
elegant, long-fingered hand. When her crystal blue eyes met his, Io nearly
gasped as his blood instantly heated. She was the most beautiful creature he
had ever seen. Even with brown circles under her eyes and her hair a mess of
tangles, she was stunning.

"I feel sick," she said.

He entered her room and found a tray then hurried to her
side. "Are you going to be sick?"

"I-I’m not – oh, God." She grabbed the tray and
retched but nothing came up.

Io knew what she was going through. His own addiction had
become so bad before he got off the shit that a night hadn't gone by when he
didn’t throw up at least once.

When she finished dry heaving, he set the tray down and went
to the small bathroom in the corner of her room and filled a cup with water. He
returned to her bedside.

"I’m Io." He helped adjust her bed so she could
sit up then handed her the water. "Thirsty?"

"Miriam, and yes." She took the water and sipped
then collapsed back against the pillow after Io fluffed it for her.

"So, Miriam, you like cobalt, huh?"

She rolled her head to look at him, but didn’t say anything.

Io shrugged. "It’s okay. You don’t have to talk. Do you
mind if I stay with you a while, though?" He knew from his own experience
that addicts didn't willingly talk about their addiction, but maybe if he just
stayed with her she would eventually open up. Not like he had anywhere else to
go except his dorm, and he didn't feel like going there right now. And he liked
the idea of staying with this beautiful creature and learning more about her.

Her eyes ranged him up and down then she shook her head.
"No."

"Good." Io pulled up a chair. Suddenly, Ari’s
homosexuality didn’t seem like such a big deal. He suddenly had something more
interesting occupying his thoughts.

Malek nodded at the beefy guards outside the holding room
where they were keeping Gina, the assassin who had gone after Sev. Pushing open
the door, he cleared his throat.

"May I come in?" She may have been a prisoner, but
it didn’t mean he had to treat her like one.

He was of the mind that you got more bees with honey,
anyway. And from the sound of it, Trace had already verbally worked her over.

She snapped her face to his. "Hey, this is your place,
not mine. You can do whatever you want."

"No need to be rude, Miss. We can do this the polite
way or we can rough you up. I'd rather be nice, but the choice is yours."

She glowered and looked away, a real tough guy in a female’s
body. Her anger seemed to be self-directed, though, and she looked like she had
been crying.

Malek closed the door, which locked behind him with a clank.
"Not the kind of accommodations you’re used to, are they?"

"Not exactly." She huffed and looked away.

He sat down backward in the room’s only chair. "So,
tell me what happened."

"I already told the other guy." She refused to
meet his eyes.

"Well, tell me now."

"What if I don’t want to?"

"Do we have to have this discussion again? Polite or
roughed up." Malek lifted his hands as if they were scales, rocking them
up and down. "It’s your decision." Malek hated the idea of getting
physical with a female, but this chick didn’t seem like just some ordinary
femme fatale. And after what she had done to Severin, he had a feeling Gina
could damage a guy pretty good if she caught him off-guard.

"Look, I’m done talking to you people. If you’re going
to kill me, then kill me and get it the fuck over with."

"You’re not helping yourself, Gina. Now, drop the
attitude and talk."

She jumped up and lunged for him. "I don’t want to
talk!"

With lightning speed, Malek burst from the chair and blocked
her as the chair went flying. Gina went after him again, swinging haphazardly
as if trying to provoke him. He deftly slapped her errant fists away, backing
up. He may not have had Sev's hand-to-hand skills, but he wasn't a schlep when
it came to self-defense. He was a black belt in several disciplines of martial
arts, after all.

Suddenly, the door flew open as the guards realized what was
happening.

Gina’s head snapped around and Malek knew what was about to
happen.

"No! Close the door!"

Too late. Gina rushed toward the massive guard then dropped
at the last split-second to slide underneath his outstretched arms and legs.
She snagged his gun from the holster then hopped up and took off down the hall.

Fuck!

Malek hurdled the guard as he fell down in the commotion
then sprinted after her.

"Don’t kill her!" He didn’t fully understand why,
but he needed to keep Gina alive.

Lakota paced in the small dorm room Tristan had let him use.
He couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was the image of his son with his
chest blown open and how he had almost lost his chance to earn the right to
call himself Sev’s father.

That bitch had used him. Gina had used him to get close to
his son. Anger prickled the hair on his arms to stand at attention and he
suddenly needed to get out of this tiny room that felt more like a cell. After
rushing out the door, he took the elevator down to the main floor, pacing inside
the cramped space until the doors opened and he could walk again. Movement. He
needed to keep moving to escape his thoughts. He passed the break room then
stopped and backed up. Maybe if he ate something he would feel better. Better
yet, maybe they had some alcohol stashed in there. No better time than the
present to fall off the wagon.

The sudden commotion and shouting coming from down the hall
drew his attention and he spun around in time to see Gina fly around the corner
with Malek close on her heels. His anger directed his thoughts. He would take
that bitch down. Now.

"Here’s your iced coffee," he said right before
tackling her. The gun she had been carrying slid right into his hand. He
smiled. Time for this bitch to die. He cocked the gun and sat up before
pointing it at her head.

"This is for my son."

She didn't fight back, and only stared up at him as if
waiting for him to get it over with and pull the trigger.

Gina wanted to die. Malek could smell it on her like stale
bread as he chased her.

No, no, she can’t die. You have to make sure she lives.

"STOP!" Malek knocked Lakota off her just as the
gun went off. The bullet caught Malek in the arm, but it was only a flesh
wound. "No! She has to live!" Why he felt so certain of this he
didn’t understand, he just knew that killing Gina would be a mistake.

She scurried to her feet to chase after the gun that
skittered across the floor again, but Malek jumped back up and grabbed her.

"No!" She screamed at him as she flung her body
around to backhand his wounded arm.

Malek winced and she briefly hesitated, her eyes panicked.
Then she tried to kick him to get away, but he was too quick and dodged aside.

"Kill me! Just kill me!" She wrestled with him as
he fought to get a hold of her wrists.

"You’re not dying today, Gina!" He growled in
frustration as she bucked and shoved against his shoulders.

"Please, just kill me!"

Finally, he got hold of her and slammed her back against the
wall so hard his own teeth rattled.

"No." In a flash, he had his knife in his hand and
up to her throat. She instantly stilled. "See, you don’t really want to
die after all, do you?"

Her face contorted in mental agony and tears flowed down her
cheeks before she inhaled harshly through a violent sob.

"Please." The fight oozed out of her and she
relaxed under his forearm pressed to her throat.

Her plaintive plea choked his heart.

"What?" he said, loosening his grip.

"Please kill me." She broke down, her body
convulsing through heavy, anguished sobs.

Malek lowered the knife and pulled her against him with his
free arm. Her face pressed into his shoulder, and her arms wrapped tightly
around him. Malek got the impression she hadn’t cried in a long, long time. Not
like this. Her sobs were too deep, too ragged, feeling as if they spilled unbidden
from a part of her she had kept tightly locked and closely guarded. Her sorrow
came from a place so deep that it nearly decimated Malek as it crashed over him
in a wave of escaped anguish, as if her grief was relieved to be free from the
restraints Gina had shackled it with for too long.

"No one is killing you today, Gina. Now, come on, let’s
go. I’ll help you figure this out."

He didn’t even look at Lakota or the others as he turned her
back in the direction of the holding cells. Malek kept his attention on Gina.
Even when he bound her wrists, he did so with tender care then guided her
gently by the arm back to her room. Once inside, he cut off the plastic cuff
then massaged her wrists as she lowered her gaze to the floor. Why wouldn’t she
look at him? All he wanted was for her to look at him. What was it about Gina
that touched him? Why did he feel so close to her when he had only just met
her?

Io slipped back into Miriam’s room and sat down next to her
again after taking off his jacket.

"What was that?" she said.

"Nothing, just a prisoner trying to escape." He
placed his hand over hers and she smiled.

"You’re nice," she said.

"Thank you." He hadn't been called nice in a long
time. At least not by anyone he didn't have in the throes of seduction.

She reached across her body and traced her index finger over
one of the swirls of ink on his right arm. "Wow, that’s some tattoo."

He pulled back and pushed the sleeve of his T-shirt up to
show off the tattooed sleeve. "Yeah, me and my best—" Io paused, not
sure what Ari was to him, anymore. "Um, me and one of the other guys here
got our arms tattooed at the same time. He did the left arm and I did the
right."

"You two must be pretty good friends then."

He lowered his shirt sleeve and shrugged. "Eh, maybe. I
don’t know."

Miriam – he loved her name – inspected the tattoo some more.
"I want to get a tattoo," she said.

"You should. They’re sexy."

She shook her head. "I don’t know. My dad won’t let
me."

"Why not?"

"He says that tattoos aren’t proper or ladylike."
She rolled her eyes.

"Do you do everything your dad tells you to do?"

She looked away uncomfortably. "Usually, yes. You have
to know him to understand."

"Well, maybe I can meet him someday." Io had no
idea where those words came from, because he never wanted to meet the parents
of any girl he dated, but somehow they sounded right with Miriam. And he hadn't
even tried to hold her hand, let alone take her on a date.