Skin Dive (14 page)
Within a few seconds, he stumbled away and she scrambled back into the pantry, the pain in her thigh increasing exponentially. This was going to cause all kinds of trouble for Tom. If he didn’t wind up dead, the police would never believe he hadn’t seen or heard a thing. They’d demand drug tests and then wind up utterly mystified when the guy came back clean. Despite the dire situation, she had to grin at that. There was nothing more fun than fucking with people in positions of authority.
For a little while, there was only silence. And then the shooting started. Because she had given him the goal of getting back to her, her warrior would fight harder than the others. He would be more careful and cunning. He would snipe them in the dark. Endless moments, she listened to men dying, and it didn’t trouble her at all. After all, they’d come to execute her for being different.
According to the glowing face of her phone, it took him ten minutes to complete her command. She limped out of the pantry to watch his progress. He shuffled toward to her, bleeding in five places. Only willpower and her compulsion kept him on his feet.
“You did well,” she told him softly. “Rest now. Rest.”
And he fell dead at her feet.
She stepped over his corpse in a pained motion and gimped to the front room to claim her bag. Sirens screamed in the distance; if not for the snow, the cops would have been here sooner. Time to get the fuck out. But this complicated her life considerably. Tan had used her power twice in a relatively short time, and the dark urges built in the back of her brain. If she didn’t pay the piper, the sitch would get ugly—death by bloody aneurysm. And nobody wanted that.
Well, a few people did, actually. But they didn’t count, and most of her enemies were dead. More to the point, how the hell would she find somebody willing to fuck her in the midst of a blizzard, while she was bleeding from the thigh? It would take a special kind of freaky to make that shit work.
Mockingbird was going to be
so pissed
.
CHAPTER 10so pissed
.
Taye was gone
when she woke.
when she woke.
At first Gillie wondered if it had been a dream, but she smelled like him this morning, so it couldn’t have been. When she rolled over, she saw the indent of his head on the other pillow. Like a sentimental idiot, she drew it to her and pressed her cheek to it. She didn’t kid herself that this meant something permanent, but it had been so good to sleep in his arms that she couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed just yet. Doing so would mean acknowledging the night was over.
But eventually, she had no choice. The only bathroom was down at the bottom of the stairs. This was a small house, which was convenient; it wouldn’t require tons of gas to heat the place. After she used the facilities, she went back up to the bedroom. Walking around naked didn’t seem like the way to spend the day. Maybe there was something in one of the dressers, clothes left behind.
To her astonishment, she found sweats in small, medium and large, still with the tags on. No underwear, but this was nice planning on someone’s part. Maybe Mockingbird assumed anyone who wound up here had a sad story to tell, a halfway house for fugitive weirdoes. But then, this wasn’t his first rodeo. He had gone down this road before with other recruits, and he had to understand how the Foundation operated. If he had never been captured, he was a powerful and worthy ally.
Though she’d been fucking with Taye when she first told him she’d work for the resistance herself, by calling Mockingbird, she had committed to the idea in earnest. If she did it of her own free will, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. If she chose to help instead of having someone else’s filth and disease forced on her . . . well, it still gave her a cold chill. But maybe she could fight past that reaction.
Whatever, she had time to acclimate. It would take a day or two to get these back roads cleared, though the snowfall had tapered off. Going commando, Gillie dressed in the small tracksuit, but the fleece was soft enough not to itch. Then she went to find Taye.
He too had snagged a pair of clean pants, and that was all he wore. The sweats hung low, revealing the curve of his hipbone. Heat filled her, but from his expression, he didn’t want a repeat of last night. His eyes were sad and distant, his jaw bristling with morning-after scruff.
“So here’s the bad news. The roads won’t be open for a couple of days, which means we’re stuck here.”
“But this is the right place?” It had to be.
He nodded. “Our contact is late. She was supposed to be here by now.”
“Maybe she got caught in the storm.”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug, drawing her attention to the movement of his muscles. “Could be. I don’t like sitting and waiting, but I don’t know what else to do.”
“You think we’re not safe here?”
“We are. At least, as much as we are anywhere. We can’t move without risking arrest.”
With that, he clicked on the TV and turned on the VCR. Outdated technology—even Gillie had a DVD player down in her dungeon cell. But he’d recorded a news broadcast from early that morning. She watched with growing trepidation.
The handsome, dark-haired anchor read from the tele-prompter. “These two are armed and dangerous, responsible for a multiple car bombing in Detroit. As yet, no terrorist organizations have come forward to claim credit for the act, but they are believed to be working with the IRA. No information at this time as to why they have moved their activities to American soil. If you see them, please notify local authorities at once or call this national tip line . . .”
Her breath went in a rush. “So we’re wanted criminals? It’s not just the Foundation after us, now. Mockingbird can’t scrub all these records. He can’t wipe the memories of everyone who saw this broadcast. What are we going to do?”
“I’m working on that.” He paced the length of the living room and back to the windows, where he gazed out at the white field stretching toward an endlessly gray sky. “They can probably find a doctor willing to change your face. You can color your hair and get some contacts. It’s not impossible.”
“Would that work for you, too?”
He hesitated a fraction too long before saying, “Sure.”
Gillie fought with the urge to ask again for his secrets. By now she knew he wouldn’t surrender them. The wall between them hadn’t come down last night; he had just scaled it for a little while, and now he stood again on the other side, peering at her through cracks in the mortar.
“Don’t lie,” she snapped. “If you don’t want to tell me the truth, fine, but don’t insult me with bullshit. I’d like to think you respect me a little.”
“More than a little.” But there was nothing personal in the words; he wasn’t the lover she’d known last night. Taye might have been observing the quality of a basketball player’s jump shot. “But this doesn’t change our plan materially. I still go to work for Mockingbird, and you get a new life. It’ll just take a little more effort on your end.”
“I don’t want a new face.” It was stupid to protest anything that would grant her freedom. Stupid. But she didn’t have anything that was her own. Changing her looks, her hair, her eyes . . . who would she be then? She had always been Gillie Flynn. But she’d lose her name, too.
“I hate the idea, too,” he said, as if he were personally responsible for the newscast. “You’re just so goddamned beautiful, it’s a crime to consider messing with how you look.” From his stricken expression, he hadn’t meant to add the last part.
A smile lightened the tightness of her chest. “You never said that before.”
“What does it matter if I say it or not? It’s always true.”
Gillie laughed softly. “Idiot. It
only
matters if you say it.”
only
matters if you say it.”
“I’m not gonna survive you,” he said, so soft and low that for a few seconds she wondered if she’d imagined the words.
“I don’t understand.”
“Never mind.” He obviously regretted the momentary lapse, and that lit her up.
Anger provided a welcome boost; it was past time for her to protest—and not with yesterday’s provocation. That, he could dismiss as an emotional response. So she kept her voice cool, belying the words she spoke. “I don’t want a new life without you in it. We have to figure out some way to stay together.”
He flinched. And when Taye hurt, he lashed out. “Don’t say shit like that. I mean it. It only makes me think you’re a brainless fucking romantic who can’t be trusted.”
But as she had told him countless times, she was tougher than she looked. “Aw. Is this where I cry and ask why you’re being
so mean
? You saw how I lived, but I don’t think you get it. Not really. Not even you.”
so mean
? You saw how I lived, but I don’t think you get it. Not really. Not even you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I remember, Taye. I remember my parents. And I remember the endless hospital visits and blood samples and feeling too weak to lift my head. I recall my miraculous recovery and bewildering the doctors. My folks were so happy that I’d finally get to be a kid. Play on the swings and fall in the mud and scrape my knees. But the Foundation took an interest. Instead of normal, we had to move and move again. They tried so hard to keep me safe.
“Then, of course, I remember being taken. After that comes a blur of drugs and torture. Then it gets crystal clear again—my years with Rowan, and all those days where I played the good girl to avoid something worse. It was like living in a minefield.” She slammed a fist into her palm. “Do you get that? Twelve years.
Half
my life. And I had Rowan watching me. Lusting. Plotting. Nobody gave a shit what I wanted . . . I wasn’t a person to them. I was a thing to be used and put away until some rich fucker needed me.”
Half
my life. And I had Rowan watching me. Lusting. Plotting. Nobody gave a shit what I wanted . . . I wasn’t a person to them. I was a thing to be used and put away until some rich fucker needed me.”
He put out his hand in a placating gesture. “Gillie—”
“Don’t. When you came along, I thought I finally had someone who cared about me. But now here you are, treating me like I don’t deserve a say in my own fate. Making
decisions
for me. You’ll stop that—and right now. We’re equals, or we’re nothing at all.”
decisions
for me. You’ll stop that—and right now. We’re equals, or we’re nothing at all.”
She glared at him from a distance of five feet, fists balled up and ready to fight. This wasn’t a game to her. He was the most important person in her life, but she would cut him off without a qualm if he didn’t get past this notion that she was some china doll. Fuck, she probably would make mistakes and missteps, but they’d be her own, and she would learn from them. Though he might be a bit older, he sure as hell wasn’t her dad, and she wasn’t looking for paternal input. In another five seconds, she would go upside his head with something heavy.
Instead of escalating the argument, he stilled. And then, with his gaze locked on hers, Taye dropped to his knees. “I am so sorry. I told you before, I don’t remember how to deal with people. But that’s not an excuse . . . I need to listen when you speak. Can you forgive me?” He bowed his head, like a penitent in search of absolution.
Her hand hovered above his hair, and then she twined her fingers in the shaggy chestnut strands, tilting his face up. “I can. Just don’t do it again. Don’t dismiss me. This is
my
life. I appreciate your help but you don’t make my choices. I do.”
my
life. I appreciate your help but you don’t make my choices. I do.”
As if he couldn’t help himself, he knee-walked to close the distance between them and rested his head against her abdomen. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and a tremor rolled through him, a man in tremendous pain. Taye, humbled and uncertain—in their months together, she had never seen him like this. Gillie stroked his hair with deliberate motions.
“Then why the hell would you choose me?” he whispered at last.
She recognized the power of the question instinctively. “I want you, partly because you’re hot.” At the way his chin tilted in indignation, she smirked. “Right, like I’m too pure to notice. You have a super-fine ass and shoulders that don’t quit. But it’s not just that. You get me, where nobody else could. I don’t want to be with someone where I have to lie. Where I have to pretend constantly and invent memories to cover those lost years. I can be who I am with you. And some days when I am totally, unreasonably angry, and I break dishes . . . when I scream and throw stuff at you when you haven’t done a damn thing, well, you understand that, too.”
“I do,” he admitted. “You have a right to be furious with the world.”
He turned his cheek slowly against her stomach, the bristles prickling even through the fleece of her sweatshirt. It felt as though he were paying homage or worshiping her. The thought unsettled her; he couldn’t possibly think he was so unworthy, no matter what secrets squatted in the midden of his past.
“Most of the time, it’s not so bad. Up, now. I’ve forgiven you.” She tugged him to his feet, but he didn’t step away.
Instead his hands slid upward, resting lightly on her waist. “Is it wrong to admit I like it when you yell at me?”
She cocked a brow. “Why?”
“Means you trust me not to hurt you, no matter what.”
A grin curled the corners of her mouth. “I bet you like it even more when I throw things at you. Crockery. Vases. Bowls.”
“Aw, yeah. Now you’re just
trying
to get me hot.”
trying
to get me hot.”
“How’s that working out for you?” She leaned into him, and was astonished. “Never mind. Empirical evidence provides the answer.” That revelation opened the most interesting doors in her head. “That’s your button? You like when I’m mean and angry? What would you do if I ordered you to go up and get naked?”
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