Claire lifted her gaze, allowing it to settle on each person, slow and wary. Finally, she said, “We need to bury him here. It was his favorite spot.”
“Well, move your butt so I can dig the hole,” Marie said. “Luke, go grab the empty wooden box on the right shelf of my shed.”
The man nodded and headed into the nearby shack, returning with the empty box. Lowering beside Claire, he held out his arms.
“Let me take him, honey,” Luke said.
Claire regarded him for a moment and then released the feline. Luke lovingly placed his body in the box, pulling a nearby flower from the ground and placing it inside before he secured the lid.
Standing and clutching the box to his hip, he extended his hand to Claire. Latching on, she let him pull her to stand. Marie walked over and thrust the shovel into the soft ground, displacing the dirt. Silent and thoughtful, she continued to dig.
“Let me,” Claire said, taking the shovel from Marie’s hands. As she started to dig, Lainey could see the tension ease from her shoulders, if only a bit. Manual labor was an easy way to release her anger, and Claire methodically dug until the opening was large enough to bury the cat.
“I think that’s good,” Claire said, stepping back and surveying her work.
Luke stepped forward and placed the box in the ground. Slow and sure, Claire began to replace the dirt on top, until all that remained was a large brown patch of soil.
Lainey gave a nod to everyone, and they stepped forward and encircled Claire.
“I’d like us all to go around and say something about Garfield,” Lainey said. Glancing at Sara, the woman cleared her throat and spoke first.
“He was such a sweet cat and always meowed a greeting to me each morning when I stepped outside to do my yoga stretches. I’ll miss him terribly.”
They continued, each saying something, until only Marie and Claire were left.
“He was a heap of fleas who was always hungry, but the darn thing grew on me after a while. He ate all the mice in my shed. Hard thing to replace, since the other one’s even lazier,” she said, gesturing her head to Puss in Boots, who meowed loudly at her feet. “Oh, you hush,” she said. “Garfield, may you find a hundred cats in heat across the rainbow bridge.”
Lainey heard a snort and realized Claire’s shoulders were hitching. Wanting to soothe her tears, she placed her arm around her shoulders. It only took a moment to realize her friend was laughing—quite uncontrollably, in fact.
“Claire?”
Shaking her head, she wiped a tear of mirth from her eye. “Only Marie could say something terrible and still make it sound endearing. Thank you, Marie.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” the woman said, pulling Claire in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, my dear girl. You have a kind heart, and those are always most open to heartache.”
“Thank you, guys,” Claire said, reverently smiling at everyone in the gathered group. “I know this must seem stupid. I just loved the little bugger.”
“We know,” Lainey said. “We all loved him too.”
“I’m going to build a headstone for him once we’re done today. He deserves it.”
“Actually, Zach and I need to play around with the intensity of the fuel rod jolt. Take the afternoon to do what you need. We’ll resume in the morning, eight a.m. sharp.” She didn’t address the words left unspoken, feeling it best to not highlight the fact they were going to try the same experiment with Puss in Boots tomorrow. Lainey hoped it didn’t end up like today’s fiasco. She wasn’t sure her team’s morale could take the blow.
For now, she left Claire to mourn by the garden as she and Zach headed inside to compute the exact energy output that would stave off another disaster.
* * * *
Cyrus returned from the scouting mission around four p.m. He and several of Hunter’s men had traversed a multi-mile perimeter around the hub in the hours since they’d departed after lunch. The scientific compound was set in the foothills of the mountains, in what used to be rural Virginia, when the world still retained recognized and accepted borders. Now, it was a free-for-all, each compound protected and reclusive. Those stragglers who did live a solitary life outside the communes were subject to capture and enslaved labor by the New Establishment. Most had learned to live in the communities and accept the rules, lest they be banished.
Cyrus had met a fair amount of compound leaders. The large settlements of Solera and Terrum were both within two hundred miles—one north of the hub, and one south. The leaders of the large territories were ethical men who proclaimed to only want peace and freedom. The hub’s proximity to the two largest communes was most likely what kept it safe, as the settlements produced many strapping young men who eagerly signed up for the Insurgency to protect their families and way of life. They were formidable even if they were outnumbered by the New Establishment, and their efforts kept the evil regime’s soldiers busy.
For now.
Striding into the hub, Cyrus immediately sensed something was wrong. Approaching the kitchen, he found Marie stirring a large pot of something red and simmering.
“What’s going on, Marie?” he asked, alarmed. “Something’s not right.”
Marie sighed, nodding over the pot. “They tried to send Garfield back in the Sphere. He didn’t make it.” Her arm rotated slowly as she dragged the spoon through the sauce. “Claire’s all torn up about it. She loved that little devil.”
Cyrus’s heart slammed in his chest as he envisioned Claire’s reaction to the cat’s demise. She had such a tender demeanor and would need comfort. She’d done so much for him, and he yearned to ease her pain.
“Where is she?”
“Out back, by the grave. We held a ceremony for the little critter. She made him a headstone.”
With that information, Cyrus pounded down the hallway, past the residential chambers and outside the small back entrance. Claire sat on her knees, stacking dirt around a gray stone that had been erected beside a mound of dirt.
“Hey,” he said, lowering beside her. “That’s a really nice headstone.”
“Thanks,” she muffled into the arm of her lightweight sweatshirt as she wiped her runny nose. “I carved his name into it. One day, when we’re long gone, someone can stumble upon this and remember him, although they might never know he sacrificed his life for science.” The words trailed off as she began to sob. Burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shook as she wept.
Cyrus slid his palm over her shoulders, the tips of her soft hair brushing against his forearm as he pulled her into his chest. Turning toward him, she buried her face in his pecs and cried while he stroked her hair, murmuring soft words of comfort.
“This is so stupid,” she said, lifting her head to latch onto his gaze. “I don’t know why I’m such a mess about this. It just…” She shrugged and sniffled. “It just seems so unfair.”
Cyrus stared at her wet face, her peridot-green eyes bursting with vibrancy from the moisture. They contained small shards of blue, seeming to swirl together, and Cyrus realized his body was beginning to tense. Not from stress, but from arousal. It was something he’d always promised himself he’d lock away. Claire was too young for him and would build a new life with a man who could give her everything she desired once they traveled to 2035. He would never be able to offer her the life she deserved.
Needing to push her away, he focused on her ripe lips. Full and red, he imagined kissing her just once. She was a passionate little thing and would most likely curl into him, much as she was doing now, and rock his world. Damn, but he wished he could taste her.
Embracing his practical side, he smoothed the dampness on her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “It’s okay, Finch,” he said. “We all know you’re a sap.”
Her features contorted into something so beautiful as she laughed, and his throat swelled at the image. “I really am. How the hell do you all put up with me?”
The corner of his lips curved, and he shook his head. “Not sure. I t
hink we’re just stuck with you.”
Emotion-filled irises roved over his face as she studied him. “I was a bitch to Lainey. Like, full-blown, See You Next Tuesday. I feel terrible.”
“Lainey’s tough,” he said, smoothing his hand over her hair. “She’ll forgive you and move on. She loves you.”
“I know. That’s why I feel so ashamed. I need to find her and apologize.”
“You’re human, Finch. It happens. Just throw some wine her way, and she’ll forget about it in a second.”
Claire chuckled. “True story.” Disentangling from him, she stood, extending her hand to pull him up. Once he was looming above her at his full height, she asked, “What did you think of today’s word?”
“Super…flu…iss…” he said, sounding it out.
“Superfluous,” she said, the word rolling off her tongue. “It means unnecessary.”
“Got it. I’m almost finished with Where the Red Fern Grows. It’s kind of sad.”
“Yeah. All the great ones are.” Her shoulders shrugged.
“I want to try something harder next time. I want you to challenge me.”
Her expression changed, becoming wistful, and he wondered what she was envisioning in her busy brain. “Okay, let me think. I’ll have something for you tomorrow.”
He offered her his arm, and she bypassed it, placing her arm around his waist instead. Settling his thick one across her shoulders, they shuffled inside.
Cyrus was thankful she’d discovered his illiteracy. It was the one reason he had to connect with her each day. Otherwise, they were worlds apart. He’d do well to remember that.
Chapter 14
That evening, Lainey sat in her office, eyes forced shut as she commanded the impending migraine to stay away. Claire had knocked an hour ago and enveloped her in a smothering embrace after Lainey gingerly pulled open the office door. Thankful her friend’s spirits seemed to be rebounding, she still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. What if their test with Puss in Boots failed tomorrow? She and Zach had determined what they believed to be the exact output from the fuel rod, but who knew, really? These things could only be proven with experiment, and Lainey didn’t know if she’d survive killing another living being.
Hating the morbid musings, she headed outside into the warm night, to the high-back wooden chair in the spot she used to sit with her father. It held a certain reverence for her, and she hoped the energy would calm the ache that was growing in her brain.
Lainey sensed his presence behind her while she sat in the broad-backed seat. His sandalwood scent overwhelmed her, filling her nostrils, and her body tensed. Clenching her eyelids together, she tried to will away the pain.
“I’m not in the mood for conversation right now, Captain,” she said, not wanting to be antagonistic but unable to offer any niceties due to the dull throbbing in every crevice of tissue inside her brain.
Hunter rustled behind her, and Lainey felt his warmth even though they lacked any physical contact. “My wife suffered from migraines too,” he said, his tone laced with sympathy and a trace of hesitation. “I used to help her.”
“How?” she asked, not understanding how anyone could ward off the evil bouts of murderous pain that invaded her mind.
He was quiet for a moment. “Can I touch you? By your temples?”
Lainey’s eyes snapped open, although she couldn’t see him since she was staring into the darkness before her. “Why?”
“I… It’s hard to explain. If you’d rather I not—”
“Honestly, I’d let Lucifer himself touch me right now if he could ward off this monster. Go ahead.”
Firm arms slid tentatively over the back of the chair, coming to rest on each side of her neck. The warm pads of his fingers pressed against the soft skin of her temples. Closing her eyes, Lainey sunk into the ministrations as his fingers began to swirl small circles, the pressure steady but gentle.
“Oh, my god…” she breathed, her body relaxing in the chair, lithe as a cat on a sunny windowsill. Each pulse in her brain was soothed by his strong, agile fingers. “You’re a saint. Don’t ever stop. I’ll give you all the riches in the world.”
His throaty chuckle encircled her like a fluffy blanket. “I know how badly these things hurt. Kara used to wail in pain when one took over. When I would massage her like this, it seemed to help.”
“It’s heaven,” Lainey sighed, not even caring she sounded like a doe-eyed weakling. There she sat, while he stood, feeling true relief from a migraine for perhaps the first time in her life.
Eventually, his fingers shifted south as he tried to move the ministrations to the base of her head and neck, although his standing position stilted his reach.
“This will probably sound all sorts of wrong, but it’s easier if you sit in my lap. That way, I can reach your neck better. Those muscles hold a lot of the tension during migraines.”
Lainey immediately stiffened, lids flying open as she digested his words.
“Whoa,” he said, sliding his fingers back to her temples. “Don’t tense up. If that’s too uncomfortable, I understand. Just trying to help.”
Lainey sat up, turning to stare into his eyes, the silver surrounding the pupils almost the same color as the moon. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He held up both hands, palms facing out. “No worries. I swear, there wasn’t one ounce of anything sexual around that suggestion. I’m not really a subtle man, Lainey. If I wanted to say something sexual to you, I would. Kara used to sit in my lap while I did this, that’s all. I’m sorry.”
Lainey exhaled a ragged breath, barely able to focus on his words due to the hammering between her temples. Damn, but he looked so sincere, and his ministrations had actually been helping…
“Okay,” she said, standing and gesturing to the chair. “Plop down. But if this gets weird in any way, I’m out.”
The curve of his lips was incredibly sexy in the dim light of the moonlit clouds. As he maneuvered his muscled body into the chair, Lainey realized her mistake. She’d never be able to sit atop his broad body and control her ragged heartbeat. He was too masculine. Too raw. The thought of losing herself to the ridiculous chemicals that always accompanied sexual attraction was terrifying. She’d done that once before, and the consequences had been calamitous.
“Hey,” he said, stretching his hand toward her, “it’s okay. Come on. If you feel uncomfortable at all, just tell me. There’s no way I’m going to piss off the lady who feeds and clothes my men.” He shook his hand at her. “Come on, Lainey.”
Heart already pounding in her chest, she slipped her hand in his and let him guide her onto his lap. As she shimmied the globes of her jean-clad butt over his fly, she thought she heard him expel a soft hiss by her ear. Trying her best to relax, she aligned her spine with his front, the back of her head resting on his shoulder.
“That’s good,” he said, placing his fingers against her temple and resuming the measured strokes. “Let the tension go. You’re safe. You can turn that busy brain off for a few minutes.”
His lips brushed across the shell of her ear as warm breath flooded the tiny channel. God, but this was erotic. Embarrassed her body was a mass of frayed nerves, she tried to shift the focus.
“Tell me about Kara,” she said softly, eyes closing as he massaged her head.
Now, it was his turn to stiffen, ever so slightly, where he sat below her.
“If you don’t want to talk about her, I understand. It was a lame attempt to change the subject. I’m a bit uncomfortable here, if you can’t tell.”
The puff of air from his gentle laugh rushed against the back of her neck. “Talking about her doesn’t always come easy to me, so I guess that puts us on even ground.” The thick pads of his thumbs situated over the two straining muscles in the back of her neck, and he began circling with measured pressure as he spoke softly.
“She was a firecracker,” he said, his velvet voice seeming to flow in tandem with his agile movements. �
��We were so young when we met—I was barely twenty years old. I’d signed up for the Old Rebellion, intent on saving the planet, and had gotten grazed in the side one day during target practice.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t always the confident, measured soldier I am today,” he said, his chuckle rumbling against her back where she rested atop his chest. “She was the nurse assigned to me in the infirmary, and I told her I didn’t need stitches. She told me to sit the hell down and let her work, or she’d have me dishonorably discharged from the army herself.”
Lainey couldn’t stop her laugh. “She sounds like my kind of woman.”
“For sure,” he said, thumbs moving to the juncture of her shoulders and neck. The steady circles were doing wonders for her migraine, which she considered a small miracle. “You two would’ve been fast friends. I’d be terrified for any man who challenged either of you to a bar fight.”
“My bar fighting days never really began, but I appreciate the sentiment,” she said, smiling as she tilted her head, granting his hands greater access.
“I was mad for her. Completely besotted, but my pledge to the cause was also important. Although it was against army policy, I convinced her to marry me—a feat I’m still amazed by. Old Rebellion soldiers weren’t supposed to marry because their partners could be used as leverage and hostages. But I’m a stubborn son of a bitch, so I just plowed ahead anyway. We loved each other so deeply, it was almost combustible. Our arguments were passionate, and our life together wasn’t always easy, but she was my world. We were just a couple of kids. It seems like a thousand lifetimes ago.”
Lainey let the sentiment of his words wash over her, heart thumping in her chest. She longed to ask him the question flashing in her hectic brain.
“You want to know how she died,” he said softly, inhaling a stilted breath.
“I don’t want to make you discuss it if you don’t want to. I told you, I’m a private person. Sometimes, things are better left in the vault for us to process on our own.”
“I’m not sure I agree,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “It’s not something I enjoy talking about, obviously, but I’ve told people over the years. It’s cathartic, in a way, to remember her with other people.” Strong thumbs moved up and down the thick corded muscles in her neck as he continued. “This will probably sound ridiculous to a woman of science like yourself, but I dream of her. Quite often, actually.”
A Paradox of Fates Page 10
