by Jus Accardo
The blow connected with his jaw, the force reverberating through my hand and sending a parade of sharp prickles up my arm. There was a muffled grunt, and Cade’s head rocked back. He didn’t topple, but I’d gotten him good. You didn’t grow up on army bases without knowing how to toss a punch.
He brought a hand to his jaw. “You hit me.”
“You grabbed me.” After the night I’d had, he really should have known better.
“Apologies.” He let go of his jaw and stood a little straighter. A glint of admiration flashed in his eyes. “Let’s get you back to the base.”
“Okay—wait. The base?”
Cade frowned. He looked as enthusiastic about the idea of heading to Fort Hannity as I felt. Probably because he was going to have to admit they screwed up. Guard duty meant ensuring nothing bad happened to your charge. Letting me slip through his fingers and go traipsing around town, then to top it off, get attacked, probably wasn’t going to win him any medals. “Because the incident involved a family member of a soldier, this needs to be reported. It will be the commander’s decision where to go from there.”
“We could keep it between us.” The last thing I wanted was to march in there and admit I’d snuck out of the house. Because as much trouble as Cade would land in, mine would be worse. This, added to the mural debacle, was going to destroy any and all the freedom I’d enjoyed since coming to Wells, not to mention bring a shitstorm of scrutiny down on Dad’s head.
Stupidity, thy name is Kori…
Noah looked like he was just fine with a cover-up, but Cade shook his head. “I’m sorry. It needs to be reported. Those are the rules.”
The look of determination on his face told me arguing was pointless. In the short time since I’d met him, I got the distinct feeling that Cade was a by-the-book kind of guy. A shame, really, because this was going to suck.
I was having a really crappy week.
Chapter Five
They’d been in the Red Room—aka Commander Simmons’s office—for almost an hour now. It was going on five in the morning, and keeping my eyes open had become more than a challenge. The only thing that made clinging to the waking world possible was the need for an explanation. I refused to leave without one.
I leaned closer to the bathroom mirror to get a better look at the damage. There was a small cut above my left eyebrow and some minor scrapes on the left cheek from where my skin had kissed the brick wall. The lighting inside the small room was horrible, but I could still make out the faintest shadow of a bruise beginning to bloom across my neck. It was sore, and in a few hours it would probably be ten times worse. My shoulder, too. I’d jarred it pretty good when Noah crashed into us in the alley. And, of course, there was the steady thumping in the back of my head that made me seriously reconsider my no-pain-meds stance. It threatened to split my skull in half, causing my eyes to water and my stomach to roil.
If I wasn’t alone, I’d probably joke that the colors would be wicked once the bruises came through. Dub myself a walking piece of art. I’d shrug it off and make light of the whole thing, possibly proclaiming it as my first war wound. But, without an audience, I was free to acknowledge the fact that, if things had gone differently, I might not be standing there.
Gingerly, I placed my hand over the mark at my throat, letting my fingers hover just above the skin where Dylan’s fingers had been, as a tremor ran through me. How close had he come to snuffing me out? To leaving my dad all alone in the world? Would he have lost it? Taken the news with stoic acceptance, then thrown himself even deeper into his service? He was always telling me I never thought things through. That I was too impulsive and foolhardy for my own good… It wasn’t until tonight that I had started to believe him. Would he blame me for what happened? Stay angry at my memory until the day he died?
The thoughts brought on a wave of fresh panic, and I had to hold my breath and count to ten in order to tamp it down. A single tear spilled over and ran down my cheek, but I swiped it away and brushed my hand down the leg of my jeans. No time for a meltdown. Not now.
Time to get answers…
I washed my hands and face and stepped from the bathroom. The timing was perfect. Cade and Noah were just exiting the office, followed by Commander Simmons.
Simmons smoothed out his shirt and pinned me with a stern gaze.
Here we go.
I cringed, prepping for assault. Dad never raised his voice—which didn’t make him any less intimidating—but other people didn’t have the same restraint. Simmons had caught me behaving in a manner unbefitting of a general’s daughter on multiple occasions. Most of the time I found it secretly funny. The poor guy was wound even tighter than Dad. His eyes would bulge, and the vein on the right side of his neck would protrude and throb. If he wasn’t careful, there’d be a heart attack in his future.
He folded both arms, glaring down at me from someplace around an imposing six foot five. “You’re sure you’re okay, Kori?”
I nodded, surprised by the lack of screeching. “Yes, sir.”
He returned the nod, then gestured to Cade. “Private Granger will escort you home. In addition to that, I’m putting several armed guards outside your house.” With a glance in Noah’s direction, he added, “Recruit Emeal, I’d like you to debrief the team on what happened tonight.”
He wasn’t going to keep me here? I had no desire to stay on base, but at least here I was protected. What place was safer than fortified, fenced-in acreage patrolled by soldiers? No one had told me a thing about this Dylan guy yet. Who he was. What he wanted. Why he’d targeted me. I had a hard time believing it was all over and done with.
Was this a plot designed to go after the families of soldiers? If so, why would a lowly recruit know so much about it? Is that who Ava Harris was? A terrorist? Why would Dylan think I knew her? This whole thing was like a jigsaw puzzle with huge missing pieces, and a small part of me wanted Simmons to find a way to contact Dad. To insist he report home immediately so I knew he was safe.
So I could feel safe…
I eyed the commander and tamped down my urge to argue. If he didn’t think me staying here was necessary, then I was okay, right? He would never let me walk out the door if I was in any real danger. I could be a pain in everyone’s ass, but we looked out for our own. That’s the way it worked.
I still didn’t know what was going on, though, and all good soldiers were prepared. Unfortunately, pumping him for information was the quickest way to get none. I decided Cade was my best option and kept my mouth closed until I could get him alone.
The commander leaned in close and narrowed his eyes at me the way he’d done a thousand times before. I pegged you as trouble the moment I saw you, he’d jokingly told me once. “And don’t try sneaking out again. We can’t protect you if you go gallivanting by yourself at all hours of the night.”
Protect me…
This wasn’t like getting caught with the mural. I wasn’t in trouble for sneaking out. This was serious. I was starting to think that Dylan hadn’t told the cop where to find me. That had been pure bad luck. This whole night could have been potentially life altering. Fatal. Whoever this guy was, whatever his deal was, he had the commander on alert—and that made me nervous. Simmons wasn’t the kind of guy you got on the ropes.
I nodded and silently followed Cade out into the cool morning air. I couldn’t help pausing just outside the building to enjoy the silence. I kept my distance from the base whenever possible, but on the occasion it couldn’t be avoided, I usually left with a headache. Between the gunfire during combat drills, the almost competitive cadence calls of rival units, and the sharp, barking instruction from the drill sergeants, it was enough to drive a girl mad. All hours of the day, and sometimes, the night. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to be torn from sleep by the call of an unscheduled nighttime drill.
Cade had the keys to the commander’s jeep and rushed ahead to open the door for me. Just in time, too. A quick glance at my cell told me it was almost wak
e-up time. Soon this place would be a bustle of earsplitting activity, and after the night I’d had, I didn’t want to hang around.
“Aren’t you the lucky one getting stuck with babysitting duty? Bet this wasn’t what you hoped for when you enlisted,” I said, slipping into the vehicle. Noah was nowhere to be seen, and I wondered if that was why he disliked me so much. Guard duty probably wasn’t his definition of be all that you can be. “You should probably thank me for making it interesting.”
The corner of his lip tipped up. “I get the feeling any time spent with you could be considered an adventure.”
There went the temperature. It was that global warming. That was my story and damn it, I was sticking to it. I’d had things with a few of the braver guys at some of my schools. Most of the time it consisted of me approaching them, spewing something to the tune of: Hey, I like you. Let’s hang. There’d be some kissing, and an occasional gropefest, and it pretty much ended at that. But flirting? I didn’t do flirting. Yet the words inexplicably tumbled out. “Pretty sure you couldn’t handle my brand of adventure.”
“Don’t be too sure.” His lip twitched again, the smallest hint of a smile, and he closed the door.
Oh my God. Had that just happened? Was I flirting with one of these guys? Witty banter and coy smiles. Yep. That was flirting. What the hell was next? Hair tossing? Dropping things and bending to pick them up just so I could wiggle my ass at him?
Bad Kori. Bad!
He shifted in the driver’s seat, eyes traveling the length of my body, lingering much longer than they should have. If he was really my dad’s subordinate, then there would be no way he’d be sneaking peeks like that, right? Unless he was suicidal.
But he didn’t look away. Then again, I wasn’t one to judge, because neither did I. This could all be chalked up to leftover adrenalin. The lingering effects of the night had warped my brain, making everything feel more electric. So much more intense.
After a moment he cleared his throat and turned. The jeep lurched forward. “He talks about you often,” he said as we came to the front gate. Cade stopped the jeep. The gate guard nodded, and a moment later the fence rolled open with a squeal. No doubt Simmons had called ahead to let him know we’d be coming. “Tells us all how proud he is of you.”
“Oh?” I knew he loved me, but I was pretty sure Dad never said that. To Mom’s relief, I made it clear at an early age that a military career wasn’t for me. I knew that came as a disappointment to him. Much like most things I did. Hell, I’d been disappointing him, literally, from day one. From the moment I arrived in this world, a girl rather than the predicted bouncing baby boy. I’d seen pictures. For the first year of my life the nursery was done in a sickening blue cutesy-camo theme.
“I’ve seen your work,” he added with the smallest hint of a smile. “It’s amazing. You have a lot of talent.”
If I’d been standing, I would have fallen on my ass. “My work?”
“Your art?” There was a smidgen of fear in his voice. Like maybe he’d said too much. The car slowed to make the right turn onto Broadway. Before accelerating, his fingers tightened around the wheel and he snuck a peek at me from the corner of his eye.
“Oh,” was all I could say. It surprised me that Dad had spoken about it. He didn’t think it was an appropriate means to earn a living. Playing with finger paints and crayons, he always groused. Such a waste of a healthy young life.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Cade sighed. “You know what you did was stupid, right? Why did you sneak out? If you wanted to go someplace, I would have taken you.”
What I meant to say was that I had no idea there was someone out there gunning for me. Instead, what came out was something far more personal. “I didn’t want an escort. I wanted to be alone. It’s complicated.” I wanted to stop there, but for some reason, the words just kept coming. Verbal diarrhea at its best. “There’s this painting in town—”
He nodded and turned the jeep onto Fisher Avenue. “The mural.”
“The mural?” I squeaked, and twitched in my seat. “Did he take out an advertisement? It was the middle of the night for crap’s sake. How did he even have time to tell people?”
“I don’t understand.” He pressed down on the gas to bring the jeep up to the newly bumped forty-five mile an hour speed limit. The fact that he was keeping it on the nose was driving me nuts. “Me knowing about the mural is bad?”
“Anyone knowing about the mural is bad. Defacing a public building is bad! I got busted. They’re going to hand my ass to me on a silver platter, then pass it around at the buffet…” I let out a whistle. “Good-bye freedom, hello snoozefest of regimented after school activities.”
“You’re not at all what I expected. Cursing, destruction of public property, sneaking out…violence.”
I shrugged it off, but secretly, I was thrilled. I liked surprising people. They all had this rigid preconceived notion when meeting me. I took pride in turning it on its ass. “It’s true. The daughter of the great General Anderson is something of a delinquent. Sorry to disappoint.”
He tilted his head and peeked at me again from the corner of his eye. He needed to stop doing that. It did funny things to my insides. “I didn’t say I was disappointed.”
Huh. Good thing it was dark or soldier boy probably would have seen me blush. I didn’t go for these guys, but Cade seemed somehow different from the rest. Not nearly as rigid as the norm. Kind of funny in a weird, stiff way. I imagined getting him to open up would be all sorts of fun. I had a brief image of the two of us walking into a store and me convincing him to rip the tag off a mattress and run. I wasn’t sure he could do it without his head exploding. “So, you gonna tell me what that guy was all about? Who the mysterious Ava Harris is?”
“Nope,” he replied, turning onto my street. The smile slipped from his face, replaced by that same annoying resolve I saw my dad wear all the time. Carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Toting top secret, world-saving information. All crap if you asked me. “I’m not cleared to share that.”
“Shouldn’t I know what’s going on? What if he attacks me again?” Granted, I was fishing for information, but the question was valid—and a real concern. Being blind to a threat was dangerous. Any good solider would tell you that.
He paused and took a deep breath, his gaze meeting mine. “He can try, but I won’t let him within a hundred yards of you, Kori. No matter what.”
A shudder rippled through me. The ferocity in his voice was one part promise and three parts threat. For whatever insane reason, I actually believed him. And his eyes? I’d never seen such conviction. There was the smallest hint of madness, and I got the feeling that anyone—or anything—that tried to come at me would end up shredded. I swallowed. “Well, I’ll give you this—you’re confident.”
My eyes fell to the house at the end of the road. Home. White with dark red shutters and a blue flamingo in the middle of the lawn. Mom named him Elvis. Elvis used to have two friends. Paul and Ringo. Alas, they met their demise at the business end of a lawnmower several years back, leaving Elvis all alone in the world.
She’d been so happy when they couldn’t find room for us on the base. Most places had all these stupid rules. What size table you could have in your yard, how high the bushes could grow—prejudices against families of plastic blue flamingos… In Wells, Elvis was allowed to live free, guarding the house against unseen intruders. In the nights following her death, I’d sit on the lawn, the dew-wet grass soaking through my flannel pajama pants, and talk to him. All the things I’d wanted to say to her and never had time. He was a good listener, Elvis. I owed him a large portion of my sanity.
Cade swung the jeep into the driveway and killed the engine. He slid out, rushing around to pull open the door before I even got my seat belt unfastened. It was equal parts sweet and irritating. I was all for a gentleman, but we weren’t on a date or anything. He was my warden, and I was his prisoner.
Keeping a respec
table distance, he followed me up the walk, then reached around to pull open the screen door.
“You want something to eat? Drink?” I asked, unlocking the door. The sun was just coming up, and even though I was dead tired, pancakes didn’t sound half bad. Stepping inside, I moved and gestured him forward. The words tumbled out before I could think and I was taken aback by my hospitality. I had always made it a mission to make sure Dad’s watchdogs felt as unwelcome as they were. Now I was offering breakfast? Obviously the night’s activities had hit me harder than I thought.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Okay.” I was relieved. Forget food. My brain wasn’t firing right. The last few hours had officially caught up to me. Sleep. That was the best thing I could do. I took a step toward the stairs, and moving my feet was like trying to dance with cement shoes on. “Well, then I’m gonna crash for a few hours. Been up all night, ya know?”
He nodded. “You’ll be safe. I’ll be right down here. On the couch.”
Ten thousand replies bubbled to the surface, and I had to bite down hard on the inside of my lip to keep them from spilling out. He was cuter than I’d thought earlier. The scar on his face didn’t detract from that, either. In fact, it added to his appeal. Broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. His brown eyes were deep set and always moving. Scanning for danger. Surveying the field. He was alert and ready. Yet there was something about him that screamed unconventional. And not just his hair and civilian duds, either. Maybe it was the way he carried himself. Not with the self-discipline of a true soldier, but with caution. Like he was afraid to say and do the wrong thing. Like the entire world was resting on the hinges of a mistake just waiting to be made. It was those small cracks in his soldier armor that enabled me to look at him like a normal person.
