Fighting (47 page)

I
said the first thing that was on my mind.  "You love me?" I asked.

"Yeah."

And
then I said the second thing that occurred to me.  "I'm sorry I took my
anger out on you.  Again."

He
gave me a small smile and moved his hand to the small of my back.  "It's
all right.  I don't expect you to change overnight," he said.

"But
you know I hate fighting with you," I said.

"What
did I say, huh?  Makeup sex.  When I'm right, I'm right," he said.

I
laughed, relieved we were okay, and wrapped an arm around his waist. 
"You're always right," I muttered.  "It's kind of infuriating,
actually."

"I'm
glad you told me you love me," he said.  "I didn't want to have to
wait until the next time we were in a life or death situation for you to admit
that."

I
scowled at him.  "I wouldn't do that."

"Yes,
you would," he said.

"Yeah,
I probably would," I relented.  "But I can't help it.  I'm a
naturally cautious person."

"You
willingly jumped on a bike and into a car chase for your very first ride,"
he said.  "You barely blinked before you took out that guy who tried to
rob the bookstore.  You didn't hesitate to come back for me at the
compound."  He looked thoughtful.  "Well, I assume you didn't."

"I
didn't," I assured him.

"You
also jumped at the chance to steal a car.  You're not a very cautious
person."

"I
am, too," I defended myself.  "With the important things."

"You
don't think riding a bike with no helmet or previous experience is
important?" he asked skeptically.

"Not
at the prospect of having an excuse to wrap myself around you.  I'm going to
miss that bike," I mused.  "It was freaking badass.  We should buy
one when all of this is over."

He
exhaled sharply and his hand pulsed on my face.  "I think you were made
for me," he said seriously.

My
mouth dropped open and I said, "I thought the exact same thing when we
were in the escape tunnel!  I said something about it not being the size of the
boat, but the motion of the ocean and you said I wouldn't say that if I were
with you because I'd be too busy screaming your name.  You were showing me your
dirty sense of humor and I literally thought that you were made for me."

"I
wasn't joking, you know," he said darkly.  "I wasn't lying, either. 
Was I?"

I
had oh so very vivid flashbacks to mere minutes before.  "I didn't
exactly
scream your name," I argued weakly.

"You
will when we're really alone," he said. 

I
tried not to smile and failed, knowing he was right.  He furrowed his brow and
slid his eyes to the right.

"What?"
I asked.

"It
just occurred to me that this opens up a whole new realm of possibilities for
our bet that I won."

My
eyes flashed and then narrowed on his.  "You wouldn't."

He
smiled sweetly and brushed his lips across mine.  "I really would,"
he said, stealing the exact words I threatened him with.   "I get to pick
one thing for you to do, whenever I say.  Them’s the rules."

"You
might regret it," I said.

"Did
you stop and think that maybe neither of us would regret it?" he asked.

I
contemplated it but then shook my head.  "I'll destroy you," I
promised.

He
laughed out loud.  "Is that right?  You think you can take me on?" he
teased.

"How
many conversations like this have we had?"

"Many."

"Yes,
only now, I have an entirely new arsenal of weapons," I threatened.

"Really,
now?  I'm intrigued," he said slyly.

"You
should be afraid.  Very afraid."

"You
sure you want to play this game?" he asked dubiously.  "You have
weakness, too, and I've already found a few with my tongue."  My eyes
flashed wider, my lips parted and my whole body tingled, recalling the feel of
his tongue
everywhere
.  He took in my change and murmured, "Pretty
sure dirty talking is one of them.  You are so going to lose."  He skimmed
his hand over my ribs down to my ass under the sheet and whispered,
"Truce?"

I
sobered at the memory of the first time he asked me that.  "Truce." 
I paused and said sincerely, "Promise not to keep shit from you
anymore."

"Me,
too," he said.

I
yawned right in his face unexpectedly and he chuckled.  "Sorry," I
mumbled.  "I was never this tired after our training sessions at the
compound," I complained.

"Yeah
well, I didn't give you multiple orgasms then, either," he said smugly.

I
laughed but then froze as we both heard the front door open and close.  We
glanced at each other and moved at the same time.  We swiftly got dressed and
each grabbed a weapon.  We eased open the bedroom door and heard Spencer say,
"Their honey mustard tasted funny."

We
relaxed and stowed our weapons away. 

"I
can't wait until our first instinct isn't to grab the nearest gun when we hear
approaching footsteps," I muttered.

"I
know," he said.  "We should probably go out there and put Brooks at
ease.  He knew we were fighting."

He
glanced down at his sweat pants and then at the crumpled white sheets on the
bed.  I glanced down at my own clothes and realized I was still wet.  I mean,
come on.  Two orgasms.

"Right. 
I'm going to shower," I said.

He
lazily tugged me to him and said, "Maybe you need help."

I
laughed softly and shook my head.  "You know I want to, but I'm not
exactly quiet when you touch me.  They'll hear."

He
looked disappointed but resigned as I kissed his jaw and twirled to find the
bag. 

I
turned suddenly and looked at him.  "By the way, where did you get a
condom?"

He
grinned.  "Ran into the gas station when Ollie and I went to get food last
night."

"Um,
you didn't take Oliver inside with you, did you?" I asked, alarmed.

"No. 
I just ran inside to 'pay for the gas.'  He didn't see what I bought."

Relieved,
I rifled through my stuff until I found clean underwear but took the same
clothes I shed and fled to the bathroom.  I took a shower and could not erase
the smile from my face.  So not only was I in a committed relationship now, but
we were in love.  Shit, things had really changed since I worked at that
bookshop.  I was going to buy Brooks something in gratitude for recruiting me. 
Like a car or a boat.  Or a life insurance policy for myself and name him as
the benefactor.  Nothing says
thank you
like the promise of a million
bucks upon my death. 

I
finished in the bathroom quickly and joined the others on the deck.  Something
about living in the woods for months at a time made the ocean seem magical and
the television obsolete. 

I
dropped heavily into a chair and ran my hands through my still wet hair.  Ethan
was slouched in his chair directly across from me and staring at me with a lazy
lascivious expression.  I knew he was probably picturing me naked, which made
me both hot and gave me shivers at the same time.  I tried to look elsewhere before
I burst into flames and made the others uncomfortable, but no matter where I
looked, my eyes kept flicking back to him every few seconds.  When he saw how
hard I was trying and failing to ignore him, he smirked and was the picture of
straight up seduction.  I wanted him.  Again.

He
must have read that in my expression or guessed it from the fact that I was
blatantly checking him out, because his expression turned deadly serious and he
leaned forward on his knees with his eyes glued to mine so that all of his
intensity was concentrated on me.  I glanced at Brooks distractedly and nodded
my head at him as he talked, though I wasn't paying one hundred percent
attention to him because I couldn't ignore how compelled I felt to look at
Ethan.  I looked at my hands in my lap and raised only my eyelids so that I was
looking at him through my eyelashes and the floating ribbons of hair by my
face.  As soon as we made eye contact, he crooked his finger at me slowly in a
come
here
gesture.  Damn, that was sexy.

I
swallowed nervously and palmed the arm rests of my chair to push myself up.  He
followed me with his eyes so that he was looking up at me as I took the four
steps closer to him.  Without delay, as soon as I was within touching distance,
his hands tugged my waist toward him and pulled me down to sit on his lap.  My
knees bent and were gathered against one arm rest while my side was pressed
against his chest, much like the first time he pulled me to sit on his lap.

He
resumed his slouched posture so that we sat at an angle and I was lying against
him.  I tucked my feet under me so my knees touched one arm rest and my feet
pointed toward the other.  He shoved his hand between my thighs right above my
knees so that his palm was sandwiched between them comfortably.  His other hand
curved around my hip.  Once we were settled, and holy shit it was so
comfortable, he rested his head against the chair and refocused on Brooks. 

Brooks
was asking if there was anything we would want to change to our house since he
was going to rebuild it from the ground up.  The only suggestion I had was to
put Ethan's room next to mine, and have our rooms on the other end of the house
away from everyone else.  But was I suggesting that out loud?  Like hell.

We
all sat around under the stars for at least another hour or so, just talking
and laughing.  Ethan's body heat was seeping into my skin and I was so relaxed
that I started to get sleepy.  I wrapped my arm around his lower back and
scooted down some to rest my head against his shoulder.  His arm tightened
around me but he didn't stop what he was saying to Brooks about changing the
location of the compound.

His
voice was vibrating against my body and the quiet and comforting tone of it
lulled me into sleep.  Next thing I knew, we were in bed and my body was being
pulled against his.  My eyes opened groggily and I looked around the moonlit
room.  Somehow, he had gotten me from the deck to the bed and out of my jeans
without me even waking up.  I readjusted my head on his bare chest so that my
ear was right over his heartbeat and twined my bare leg around his.  And that's
when I noticed that
his
leg was bare, too.  I skimmed my hand down his
side and felt the elastic waistband of his boxers.

I
hummed my voice at him and snuggled closer, not awake enough to actually speak
words.  He settled and wrapped his arm around my lower back and slipped his
hand under my shirt so that it lightly tickled the skin of the small of my
back.  I crooned my voice at him very softly in sleepy serenity.  He almost imperceptibly
chuckled and swept his fingers lightly over the rest of my back, tracing my
spine and shoulder blades as his other hand hooked around my leg.  I stayed
awake for as long as I could just to memorize and bask in his protective
embrace that was a buffer to the outside world and all of its worries. 

The
next morning, I woke up before Ethan did.  We were both on our backs but our
arms and legs were pressed together and his palm was curled around the inside
of my thigh possessively.  Everything from the night before rushed back to me
and I smiled and pressed my face into my pillow sleepily.  I thought about
waking him up with kisses but figured I'd at least like to brush my teeth
first.  I somehow managed to escape his hold without waking him up and crept to
the bathroom quietly.  I got dressed and ready for the day then wandered into
the kitchen.  The house was completely silent and when I glanced at the clock,
I realized why.  It was before eight in the morning and everyone was still
sound asleep.  I considered going back to bed and having a lazy morning with
Ethan, but then I eyed the coffee maker.  I craved coffee and there was only
the regular crappy coffee available, so I figured I'd go to the store and get
the good stuff.  Maybe even surprise everyone with a big breakfast. 

I
quietly tiptoed back to our room to grab Ethan's jacket and keys.  I hopped in
the SUV, which we really needed to retire because it had surely been reported
stolen by now, and left the cabin.  It took just short of an hour to find a
decent coffee shop that had more than black coffee and hot chocolate.  I parked
on the road in front of the store and wrapped myself in Ethan's jacket before
walking inside so that I was warm and surrounded by his comforting scent.  It
was actually pretty good timing because it was just after nine, so I missed the
crowd but still experienced the rich, early morning aroma of freshly brewed
coffee. 

I
was standing in line when I suddenly felt strange, like someone was watching
me.  I had already scouted the shop as I walked in, and knew that I didn't recognize
anyone inside, so I glanced around again for a new face or a shifty character. 
I didn't see anyone suspect, so even though it went against my intuition, I
ignored it and waited for my order.  I bought a cup of coffee for me, a bag of
coffee grounds for the house and several huge coffee house muffins to split
among us for breakfast.  I gathered my muffins and coffee and walked back to
the car. 

I
knew I was right as soon as I slid my key into the lock.  I saw a nondescript
windowless van in the reflection of my window squeal to a stop behind me.  I
left the keys dangling in the door and abandoned my coffee and muffins to fall
to the ground right as I felt two hands grab my shoulders.  I shouted out
emphatically to draw attention to us as the hands hauled me into the van
through the open sliding door.  We landed on our backs and I instantly went
into defensive mode.  He rose up on his knees to shut the sliding door and I
crouched and lunged toward my attacker.  The van was gutted and the middle and
back seats were removed so it was a relatively empty space, perfect for
kidnapping people on the go.  There wasn't even any carpet to scrub blood from.

I
punched my abductor in the face twice and shit, he was a fast bleeder.  When he
fell to his back, I straddled his chest and slammed his head against the metal
floor of the van once before his hands gripped my waist and hauled me off of
him.  He got lucky with the timing, because we swerved around a curve, and the
added momentum threw me against the wall of the van.  Since I was right there
by it, I bolted for the door handle but he savagely yanked me back by my hair
before I even touched it. 

I
jammed my elbow against the guy's solar plexus and twisted around to dig my
fingers down into the pressure point of his collar bone.  He yelled out in
agony and slammed his fist into my face.  I fell to my back as the driver
continued to drive haphazardly as only the guilty do.  I wiped blood from my
mouth and scrambled to the back of the van toward a broom I spotted that was
laying against the wall.  He got up on his knees and yanked on my ankle so I
flipped onto my back and kicked at his face.  I made contact with the third
strike but he caught my boot and his other arm helicoptered out as he fell
back.  I suddenly remembered I had a knife tucked in my boot, so I tried to
reach for it but he still had a tight grip on my boot so I twisted and
stretched as far as I could to grab the broom stick.  It had stiff, durable
bristles instead of those soft, pansy bristles so I jammed them against his
face savagely and he released me.  I flew to my feet and slammed the stick
against my thigh to break it in half.  Just to be a bitch, I threw the head of
bristles at his face as he lunged for me.  I managed to block two of his strikes
and slam the other end of the stick against his face like a baseball bat.  He
was knocked to the side from the blow and I whacked him in the neck and head
twice more before I was thrown toward the front of the van when the driver
slammed on the brakes suddenly.

I
tumbled forward but quickly jumped flat on my feet and found my balance.  I
lurched toward the driver to try and disable him but was yanked by my hair and
slammed flat on my back.  As soon as he let go and made to steal my broom
stick, I yanked the stick out of his grip and beat him with it before doing a
quick rising handspring.  I pulled my thighs toward my chest, rolled my weight
onto my shoulders and then thrust my legs away from me, pushing off on my
shoulders.  I landed on my feet and almost lost my balance again because of the
erratic driving and slippery floor doused with our blood.

I
whirled and jerked his face and my thigh toward each other to collide
brutally.  That was quickly becoming one of my favorite moves.  His head
snapped back from the impact and he looked dazed for a moment, fresh blood
pouring out of his nose.  I used his down time to kick his chest so that he
flew back against the door.  He landed roughly and immediately reached out and
tried to sweep my feet from beneath me, but I rained the broom stick down on
his arms and torso so rapidly that he curled into a defensive shell. 

I
raised the stick above my head to hit him again and he sprung up to his knees
and slammed his hand against my stomach, which brought my face lower and gave
him the perfect opportunity to shove his fist against my face, too.  I blinked
furiously and tasted blood as I felt intense pain splinter throughout my facial
tissue.  I toppled against the sliding door and reached for the handle to yank
the door open as I fell on my back.  By then we were so far out of town that we
were on the highway and all I could see was the green blur of trees and grass. 
As soon as I got the door open, I threw myself toward the guy, blocked his hit
and then yanked on his shirt front.  I slammed him onto the floor with his head
dangling over the open road and I straddled his body so that he couldn't move
his legs.  I thrust the stick against his throat and pushed hard enough that he
froze and clawed at the handle desperately.  His hands reached up to try and
strike my face, but he quickly realized that his hands better served him if he
held onto the walls of the van instead of falling to his death.

My
hair was flying around wildly in the wind as I turned to yell at the driver to
pull the van over but saw the barrel of a gun pointed at me before I could. 

"Let
him go!" the driver shouted. 

"Fuck
you!" I screamed before thinking it through.

I
didn't recognize either of these guys, but the whole deal seemed sketchy and
reeked of someone who didn't want to get his hands dirty.  Fletcher, that
cocksucker. 

"Let
him go or I'll shoot you in the face!" he yelled.

I
forced the stick against the guy's throat harder and his voice gurgled loud
enough to hear over the engine and roaring wind.  Even if I knocked out the guy
I was sitting on, the driver had a gun.  They tend to shoot bullets at very
high speeds and I, unfortunately, couldn't dodge those.

"Pull
him inside and shut the door!" the driver yelled, alternately switching
his focus between me and the road. 

I
couldn't jump from the vehicle when it was flying down the road at nearly
ninety miles an hour, and I couldn't hold both of them off forever without
killing them and thereby, crashing the van and most likely killing myself as well,
so I reconsidered. 

"Sit
back!" the driver yelled, becoming frantic.

A
frantic guy holding a gun is always a very bad thing.

I
glared so hard that my eyes hurt but I pulled the stick back and let the guy
breathe.  Two seconds after he started to massage his throat and take deep
breaths, he shoved at my body but I didn't move off of him, and as soon as he
sat up, I punched him in the face again.  His torso whipped back toward the
floor and his head returned to dangle out of the door.  The driver shot a
warning shot through the open door, near my face.  I whipped toward him and he
was scowling at me. 

The
guy I was still straddling sat up again and I was sorely tempted to give a
repeat performance, but kept it in check in case the next warning shot wasn't a
warning.  He shoved at my shoulders so that I tumbled to the floor next to
him.  He took the gun from the driver and aimed it right in my face, inches
away.  I froze.

"Hands
together, in front of you," he commanded.

His
voice cracked, he wiped a hand across his bloody face and then spit blood to
the floor beside of us. 

You're welcome for that, asshole.

"Cross
your wrists."

I
kneeled and did as he said.  He shut the sliding door and my hair settled
around my face in tangles, sticking to my skin that was wet with blood and
sweat.  He leaned toward the front seat to switch the gun for a zip tie without
taking his eyes off of me for even a second.  He tightened my wrists together,
but what he didn't notice was that I turned my wrists slightly so that they
were at an angle to each other and pulled them apart minutely, so it appeared
that the tie was so tight it was nearly cutting off my circulation but it
really wasn't.

As
soon as he had my hands secured, he backhanded me.  My body jerked to the side
and I spit out more blood onto the floor, so now it was thoroughly covered and
slippery with our combined spit and blood stains.  Delightful.

"Rick,
check her for bugs," the driver said. 

Rick
spun toward the driver and yelled, "No names!"

Amateurs. 
Rick looked like a typical guy in his early thirties and the driver looked to
be approaching fifty, his hair already graying in patches.  Rick reached for
something in the front seat and retrieved a wand that looked a lot like the
device Ethan used the day before.

"Rick,
huh?" I asked, panting from overexertion.  I blew the tangles of hair from
in front of my face.  "That's short for Richard, isn't it?  How about I
call you Dick, instead?"

"Shut
up," he clipped.  He ran the wand over my body.  "Straighten your
legs."

I
pulled my ankles out from beneath me and sat on my ass.  He ran the wand over
my legs and then told me to roll over on my stomach. 

I
eyed him suspiciously and spat, "Fuck no."

"I'm
just going to wand you," he said impatiently.

"That's
what they all say," I muttered.

He
glared and palmed his gun threateningly.  My body slumped in defeat and I
rolled over onto my stomach.  He ran the wand over my back and legs and when
the device didn't squeal, he tossed it aside.  The second he touched his hands
to me, I jammed my elbow under his chin.

"Damn
it!" he yelled.  He pushed the barrel of the gun against my shoulder
blade.  "I will shoot you if you don't stay still.  I'm just checking you
for weapons!  Jesus."

"Don't
you think if I had a weapon, I would have used it instead of the broom
stick?" I bluffed.  "And anyway, you can't expect me to lie still
while you take me hostage," I bitched.

"Yes,
I bloody well can.  I have the gun," he said through clenched teeth.

He
ran his hands over my torso and legs and then I flipped over so he could do it
again to my front side.  Satisfied that I was unarmed, he gathered anything
else that could be used as a weapon and tossed it in the front seat.  He sat
down with his back against the front passenger seat and watched me vigilantly,
holding the gun loosely in his hand.  I glared back at him defiantly and we
both caught our breath.

Fuck,
but I was pissed.  By now, the others knew that I wasn't at the cabin and were
probably wondering where I was.  If they thought I abandoned them in the dead
of night and left to work with Fletcher, I was going to shit a brick.  I didn't
even want them to entertain the idea that I left willingly, didn't want that
seed of doubt planted in their minds.

And
Ethan.  Oh God, Ethan was sure to be pissed, either at me or at Fletcher if
they figured out what really happened.  Whether Fletcher was behind this or I
was being randomly kidnapped, my life was in danger.  And if I was going to
maybe die, at least I had Ethan's jacket so that he was with me in some
miniscule way.

I
blinked at Dick. 
Ethan's jacket!
  That was where he stowed the bug that
they planted on me without my knowledge!  He disconnected the battery when we
were in the elevator, so all I had to do was reassemble it and hope to God that
they thought to look for me and turn on the computer program to receive the
signal.