by Jus Accardo
My intention was to say goodnight and turn away, but a wave of boldness overcame me. “Thank you for helping me out tonight.” He was technically just doing his job, but I was grateful despite that. I leaned in and kissed his cheek. Or, that’s what I’d aimed to do. He turned his head at exactly the wrong moment.
Or, depending on how you looked at it, exactly the right one…
Our lips met. Warm and soft with the smallest jolt of something that stirred the butterflies in my belly into a frenzy. “Wow,” I whispered, pulling away just a little. A nervous giggle spilled from my lips. “Not exactly what I meant to do.”
I expected him to move back. To be surprised. Maybe apologize for moving his head. Good soldiers don’t suck face wih the general’s daughter. Really. It was an official rule.
What I didn’t expect was for him to grab the sides of my face and kiss me again.
If you could call it a kiss…
I’d had my share of stolen smooches under the bleachers in grade school, then as I got older, a few scorchers from the boys brave enough to tempt my dad’s wrath. There’d been a few butt-grabs and exactly two under-the-shirt-over-the-bra breaches. But compared to all that, despite the fact that this was a kiss, this was some serious next-level shit.
Cade’s lips moved fervently over mine as his fingers skimmed upward and tangled into my hair. It sent every nerve into hyper drive, and in response, I rose onto my toes to deepen the kiss. The butterflies in my stomach turned to falcons, frenzied and trying to break free from a lifetime of oppression. Falling. I felt like I was falling. That dizzy, dropping sensation that came when balanced at the top of a rollercoaster, just before taking the final, daring plunge into what you hope isn’t oblivion.
No. This wasn’t a kiss. This was something cosmic.
When he finally pulled away, I was breathless. My pulse hammered beneath my skin, a wildly thumping, erratic rhythm that I was afraid he’d hear. “You are so not like any other soldier I’ve ever met…”
He took a step back. When I finally worked up the nerve to look him in the eye, I saw he was pale. Pale, and horrified. “Kori… I didn’t—”
“Oh man, don’t freak.”
And please, for the love of God, don’t say you regret that!
I threw up my hands and took a step back. “I’m not gonna tell my dad or anything.” My heart still pounded, and remnants of an all-over tingle lingered, making me a little lightheaded. Damn. If he didn’t seem ready to have a coronary, I probably would have considered doing it again. “I mean, I totally instigated it.” Which wasn’t technically true. The kiss had been a result of timing. Or, cosmic intervention, my mom would say.
“You should get some rest.” His breath was quickened and his gaze lingered on my lips for a moment before he turned his back on me.
Ouch. Okay. I could spot a brush-off. Maybe I was that bad a kisser… Or maybe he was ashamed he’d taken it so far. Afraid someone would find out. Either way, I was beat. Pride a little raw, I let it go and made my way upstairs without another word.
A shower was too much trouble. The pillow had been calling my name since my butt hit the chair outside the Red Room. I didn’t even bother peeling off my jeans. I managed to kick off my shoes and shrug out of my sweater, leaving the tank top on, and decided it would have to be enough. I crashed into bed with a groan. Even the blankets were too much trouble to fight with. Leaden and suffocating, I ignored them and snuggled into my pillow. Oblivion was what I needed. That heavy weightlessness that came with sleep and could wipe away the remnants of the last twenty-four hours—even if only for a little while.
I tilted my head and checked the clock above the door. The hands were made from real paintbrushes. Mom had given it to me the Christmas before she died. I smiled and let my eyes drift closed.
The last thing I remembered was thinking to myself, Dad’s gone. That means I can have a Klondike Crunch bar for dinner. The next thing I knew, it was hard to breathe.
I opened my eyes, and for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, everything swam. I panicked and tried to take a deep breath, but there was a heavy weight on top of me. Solid and large. Terror chased away the last remnants of sleep, and I screamed, except the sound didn’t carry. It came out muffled and low—probably due to the fact that a warm and callused object was clamped across my lips.
“Shh,” a male voice whispered. “Like I said earlier, this will be much easier if you just go with it.”
I kicked and thrashed. That voice. I knew it. I’d heard it only hours ago.
The weight on my body shifted, and a second later, the light on my nightstand beside the bed flicked on. Dylan had me pinned down and was wearing a wicked grin. “This sucks, I know, and you’re probably confused by the whole thing.”
His hand still spread across my face, pushing down with so much pressure that I couldn’t even nod.
“Here’s the truth,” he whispered, leaning closer. The spark of anger in his eyes chilled me to the core. My heart pounded. Cade and Noah were downstairs. I just had to find a way to get them up here. I struggled, trying to lift my body to jar him, to loosen his hold, but it was no use. His grip was unrelenting, and he weighed what felt like a metric ton. “You got a raw deal, Kori. Over and over, you’re stuck paying for someone else’s mistake, and I’m truly sorry about that… In the end, though, you have to die. You always have to die.”
Chapter Six
I tried to scream, but it came out garbled and low. A muffled sound that came close to mimicking an irritated cat.
“This is nothing personal,” he continued as though we were chatting calmly about the weather. “I like you. Always have.”
Always have?
Forget terrorist. They needed to toss this guy in the nut house and throw the key out to sea. I squirmed again, shaking the bed. The headboard rattled, knocking into the nightstand. As a result of the commotion, the lamp clattered as it wobbled a bit.
Bingo!
I struggled again, doing my best to cause as much movement as possible. Dylan laughed. I assumed he thought I was trying to escape. But when the bed whacked the nightstand hard enough to send the lamp crashing to the floor, his grin faded.
“Bitch,” he spat, wrapping his fingers around my neck. Downstairs, someone called my name—it sounded like Cade. When I didn’t answer, he started up the stairs. I could tell because the first, third, and fourth steps creaked.
With his hand off my mouth, I drew in as much air as I could and yelled, “Cade! He’s—”
And that was as all I could get out. Dylan’s deathlike grasp obstructed my air supply. The look in his eyes turned feral. It was anger unlike anything I’d ever seen. The incident in town suddenly felt like a day at the beach. In all my life, I’d never been as scared as I was in that moment.
Footsteps pounded the hardwood in the hall, and a second later, Cade’s voice came, faint over the sound of my own erratic heartbeat, floated from across the room. “Dylan, stop!”
“I swear if you take one more step—either of you—I’ll snap her neck.”
“Just chill, man.” That, from Noah. He must have gotten back from the base sometime after I’d passed out.
“Oh, I’m chill. Trust me. So chill, in fact, that I’m giving you a chance to break your losing streak. We’re gonna change it up a bit.”
“Change,” Noah repeated. There was an air of caution in his voice. Like he was talking to someone standing on the edge of a building, preparing to jump. “Change how?”
“It means we’re going to play a new game, boys. And this time, we’re getting everyone involved.” He turned back to me, eyes traveling over my body with a lecherous grin. Easing up, he slowly unwrapped his fingers. The relief was instant, the pressure from his grip disappearing to leave only a dull ache and the need to cough. “I’ll even let you play this time.”
Crazy. They’re all crazy.
“Sorry,” I said between shallow gulps of air. I could barely hear him over the sound of
my own pulse, stuttering along like an engine trying to turn over. My chest hurt—more from fear than the fact that I’d had some wacko camped out on it for five minutes—and the adrenaline pumped through my veins like jet fuel. Heart attack. I was on the verge of having a heart attack. Add all that to the soreness from our previous encounter, and my body was in full-on craptastic mode.
Show no fear.
“Not interested. Maybe you should just go play with yourself?”
Dylan snorted. He slid sideways, allowing me to sit up. “I like this one much better than the others.” His gaze swiveled from me to the boys. “And before you contemplate something heroic, I want to remind you what happened two months ago.”
Cade’s furious expression faltered, morphing to stricken, but the cryptic taunt seemed to enrage Noah. Eyes narrowed, he clenched his jaw, visibly taking a deep breath as if to remain in control. “Why should we play your game at all?” he asked. “I mean, what’s the point?”
“To keep history from repeating itself,” Dylan replied, cocky.
Noah, in turn, shrugged. “Maybe it’s time to break the cycle. Stop trying to undo your brand of crazy and just take you out. You feel me, right, man?”
I was almost thankful for the abstruse innuendos. They chewed at my fear, nibbling away and leaving irritation at being so obviously excluded from the loop. I felt like I was sitting on the outside of a soundproof glass room. These people inside were having this conversation—one that plainly included me—and I couldn’t hear them.
“Good,” Dylan said. “That’s good—and I actually believe it. I did the crime, so I deserve to do the time, right? We all know that’s what Cade thinks—which I find extremely hypocritical. You know, all things considered. But what about her?”
Noah stiffened. “What about her? She’s nothing to me.”
Ouch. I knew the guy didn’t like me, but that was harsh. And stupid. I had a feeling Dad wouldn’t be handing out commendations to the two guys who let his daughter die.
Dylan laughed. A twisted sound that screamed of lunacy. “She’s nothing to you? Really? Does Cade feel that way as well?”
What the hell was going on here? They had some kind of history. That much I’d figured out on my own. In the beginning it seemed like this had something to do with Dad. As a general, he had his fair share of anti-fans, and they’d gotten the commander involved. There were the hushed whispers I’d overheard speaking of some plan Dad was in on. Now, though, I was starting to think Cade and Noah had dragged their own crazy baggage to my doorstep.
“Just tell us what you want,” Cade snapped. Our eyes met, and he quickly looked away.
Dylan’s expression turned stormy. “You can’t give me what I want.” His voice was low and his words cutting. But there was something else. A spark of sadness in his eyes so fleeting, I couldn’t be sure it had even been real. “You can’t give back what you stole from me.”
“What you planned on doing was—”
“I don’t care,” Dylan bellowed. He was literally shaking with rage.
I jumped. Cade and Noah didn’t seem surprised by the outburst, though. They stood by the door, watching and waiting like they’d done this a thousand times before.
“I owe you hell for what you did to me. You, and Anderson, and the Tribunal.”
Anderson…
I was sure he didn’t mean me. Before tonight, we’d never met. I would have remembered. There went the dirty laundry theory. This did somehow involve Dad. And the Tribunal? What the hell was he talking about? Obviously these people—whoever they were—had wronged him in some way—or at least, that was his perceived version of it. But what the hell did it all have to do with me?
Dylan’s expression softened. Just a little. He laughed. “She reminds me of Ava. All spit and fire, ya know?”
“But she’s not Ava,” Cade said, taking a step toward the bed. “She’s just some innocent girl.”
“She is innocent,” Dylan agreed. “But we both know she’s not just some girl. And you’ll have to live with the outcome of all this. You and her damn father.”
It happened so fast. One second I was leaning against the wall, watching this sociopath get off on the sound of his own voice, the next I was being shoved back down to the bed.
I struggled for all of about three seconds. His arm tightened, wedged beneath my neck to keep me in place, and I knew in my gut there was no escape. This was it. No art school. No quirky best friend. No sex… Dead at seventeen before actually getting a chance to live.
I braced for the blow, but it never came. Instead, there was some shuffling, and a moment later, something clicked around my right wrist. It was warm and thin with a smooth surface and snug fit. I strained my neck to get a look, but Dylan held tight. Whatever the thing was, the feeling of warmth was growing. Fast. There was a sharp sting. Like a thousand tiny needles all plunging into soft skin. My wrist went from pleasantly toasty to mounting inferno that threatened to turn me to cinders in a matter of seconds. Poison? A bomb of some kind?
The pressure keeping me in place eased, then disappeared, and I was able to sit up again as the burning started to subside. Dylan removed his hand and stood watching me with a sinister grin. I couldn’t help wondering why Cade and Noah were just standing there, staring at me like I’d grown a set of horns and a spiffy new tail instead of restraining him. Well, they weren’t looking at me exactly.
They were gawking at my new bracelet.
Dylan folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, casual as could be. “I’m staying three days. Back off and let me do what I came here to do. Help me find me Ava. If you do, I’ll give you the key to that thing before I leave.”
Noah snorted. “Sure. You want us to stand by while you butcher people and help you kidnap some innocent girl? We’ll get right on that.”
“Give me the key, and we’ll help you find Ava,” Cade countered. He pushed past Noah and came several steps into the room.
Dylan grinned and tapped the side of his head twice. “You keep forgetting that I know you, Cade. I know how your mind works. Right about now you’re thinking, I can do this. Make a deal to buy myself some time to take him down.” He shook his head slowly, grin fading. “The Tribunal has to pay for what they did to me. It’s nonnegotiable.”
“And the general?” Cade took a single step forward.
Dylan’s grin grew wider. “The general’s part in all this is also nonnegotiable. He has to pay. You find me Ava and I’ll keep it between him and me.” He inclined his head toward my wrist. “Better get moving. We all know what will happen if I leave and she’s still wearing that thing.”
My stomach turned over and I swallowed back a mouthful of bile. OhMyGod. It was a bomb. Something set to detonate on a timer. A timer. Just like Mom, each remaining second of my life had been assigned a number…
“Take it off,” Cade yelled. He lunged forward and dragged me off the bed and across the room, shoving me behind him. I wobbled, and if it hadn’t been for Noah, I probably would have landed on my ass.
I was too dazed to object. The thing Dylan slapped on my wrist was still warm, but had cooled significantly. The pain was gone, but I felt like I’d just run a marathon. Out of breath and exhausted. It looked like a simple black leather band on the top, but when I turned my palm up, the underside was strange. A small digital screen, seven blue numbers long. I’d never seen anything like it.
“Why are you doing this?” I couldn’t control myself any longer. The words spilled out, cracked and small, the fear unmistakable. Dad would be horrified. Good soldiers hid their emotions. They stood tall in the face of adversity and overcame whatever the world threw their way. But I wasn’t a soldier. Nothing in my life until that point had ever made it more apparent. I was ready to crack. “What the hell is this thing?”
Dylan smiled. It was a condescending grin, and some of my fear turned to rage. All I wanted in that moment was to beat the look away with my bare fists. “You should ask your boys here about th
e Infinity Division. They’ll fill you in—since apparently Daddy didn’t.”
Infinity? That was Mom and Dad’s thing. Their word. What the hell did this guy know about it?
“What’s to stop us from taking you down here and now?” Noah said.
Dylan shrugged again. “I’m giving you an opportunity to save her. You wanna blow it? Go ahead. You might have no problem living with her blood on your hands, but what about your buddy? Do you think Cade could do it? Do you think he’d let you do it?”
Noah leaned in, lips twisted into an ugly snarl. “We both know this is bullshit, Dylan. Part of the game. You’ve got no intention of giving us that key.”
Dylan winked. “Maybe you’re right—maybe not. You really willing to take that chance?”
“What if she’s not here?” Cade asked. The poison in his voice was enough to make me flinch.
Dylan clucked his tongue. “Then things are looking pretty grim for the Andersons.”
Cade hesitated. “She could be gone already.”
They stared at one another for a moment, the silence heavy. Something dark hung in the air. History was the wrong word to slap on these guys. They were connected. In some weird way, a part of each other that seemed to push and pull and fuel their existence. The very definition of a toxic relationship.
“Better hope not, because I’m getting tired of looking. Hell, I may just move on and look someplace else.” Dylan nodded once and started toward the door. Before leaving, he paused. “Oh, and Cade? Don’t involve the base. I see anyone from Fort Hannity on my ass and she’s as good as dead.”
Without another word, he disappeared. None of us tried to stop him.
Chapter Seven
Cade spun around and immediately began trying to pry the band from my wrist like a demon possessed. His skin paled and his eyes sparked with fear—concern twisted and churned in my stomach. He scraped at my skin and yanked and cursed. None of it helped. The band stayed firmly in place, locked around my wrist like it was meant to be there.
