by Skye Knizley
Smoak smiled and kissed Blaze with gentle lips. “Thank you, B.”
“You’re welcome. I was going to make you some hot chocolate, but maybe a shower would help more,” Blaze said.
“I should go—”
“—take a shower,” Blaze finished. “You aren’t leaving this apartment until you’re clean and yourself again. You can use my bathroom, and I’ll get you some fresh clothes.”
Smoak rose and let her hand trail along Blaze’s face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re breathtaking?”
She stood under the hot water for a long time, watching the blood swirl down the drain like a candy cane from hell. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could see Blaze’s face with a bullet hole in her head, her beautiful green eyes blank and lifeless.
This had never happened to her before. She waded through death on a daily basis and never batted an eyelash because the people she killed or watched die were evil. The punishment fit the crime. Blaze didn’t deserve to die, nor did Smoak believe that the drugged girl she’d been trying to save should have died. She should have been able to save her.
Smoak clenched her fist and more blood spilled out; this time it was hers. She was so lost in her own purgatory, she didn’t feel the pain or notice Blaze’s hands on her, gently washing away the blood until the water ran clear.
“Are you sure you want to be here?” Smoak asked when Blaze stopped and hugged her.
“I’m where I should be,” Blaze replied.
Smoak turned and looked at the beautiful woman behind her. Blaze stood in the spray with her hair spilling around her, and Smoak saw her nude body for the first time. Her skin was perfect, porcelain like an antique doll. Her breasts were firm and bore small musical note tattoos that trailed onto her sides, hidden but always there, and her stomach was flat with just a hint of the muscles beneath.
Blaze blushed under Smoak’s gaze. “Do you like what you see?”
Smoak didn’t answer. She pulled Blaze beneath the warm shower and kissed her, parting her lips with her tongue and letting it explore. She loved the feeling of Blaze’s tongue piercing clicking on her teeth and briefly thought about getting her own done, so she could share the sensation, before she lost herself to the woman in her arms.
Blaze parted the kiss and nuzzled beneath Smoak’s chin, nipping and biting just hard enough. Smoak let her have her way before she took over again, teasing her nails over Blaze’s breasts and stomach, leaving light trails in her skin before sliding even further. Blaze gasped and parted her legs, leaning into Smoak, her lips finding the pulse in Smoak’s neck and sucking gently.
“Make me feel alive again, Kamryn,” she whispered.
Smoak kissed Blaze hard, her other hand holding her girl’s hair tight. When she parted the kiss, she grinned and licked her way down Blaze’s body, not stopping until she reached her beautiful core.
They lay in bed in a tangle of arms and legs for a long time, enjoying the glow of their lovemaking. The sun was a shadow on the wall when Smoak rolled over and looked into Blaze’s eyes. Blaze smiled and ran a soft hand over Smoak’s face, and she turned her head to kiss the redhead’s palm.
“Do you believe in love at first sight?” Smoak asked.
Blaze giggled and squirmed closer. “What, like Romeo and Juliette? That stuff doesn’t happen in real life.”
Smoak nodded and held Blaze’s hand, feeling her heart pounding in her chest.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
Blaze pulled Smoak’s hand to her and started kissing her fingers. “Positive.”
Smoak smiled and lay back, staring at the ceiling. She felt Blaze move, and suddenly, she was on top of her, a Cheshire Cat grin on her face.
“But I believe in love that grows since high school,” she said.
Smoak frowned and looked at the woman in her arms. “What do you mean?
“I remembered where I knew you from,” Blaze said. “I saw you on the football field in high school. You were a Varsity Sharks cheerleader, and your team was playing some kind of exhibition game against the Christian Academy.”
“You couldn’t have been there,” Smoak said. “You were just a kid.”
“I was a freshman, and you were a senior,” Blaze replied. “I was pushed a year ahead because the Academy was behind what I’d been learning before.”
Smoak smiled and kissed Blaze again. “I wish I had met you then.”
Blaze returned the kiss and laid her head on Smoak’s chest. “You did, Kam. I’m not surprised you forgot. I’d all but forgotten myself until Kiril called you Smoak last night.”
“I’m so sorry,” Smoak said. “I must have been a real bitch not to remember you.”
Blaze raised her head and smiled. “You were perfect, Kamryn. You saved my life.”
Smoak looked into Blaze’s eyes and remembered. She couldn’t believe she’d ever forgotten.
“Go Sharks!” Smoak yelled, shaking her pom-poms and bouncing on one foot. Her blue and black uniform was perfect and showed off her tanned legs in just the right way. The attention she got from the crowd was worth two hours with a stolen iron.
On the field, the Academy had the ball and was in a huddle discussing another play. Or something. Smoak really couldn’t care less. She was there for the cheering, and for Ashley, who’d made her join when they were freshman. For the most part, she hated football. It wasn’t fast or violent enough for her taste.
“The Sharks should have kicked their asses by now,” Ashley said from next to her.
Smoak turned and looked at her friend. If anyone was a perfect cheerleader, it was Ashley Higgins. The uniform fit her as if she was a full-grown woman, not a teen, and her smile could light up a hurricane. Yet, she was oblivious to the appreciation of the crowd.
“It’s an exhibition game,” Smoak said.
“So?”
“So we can’t just trounce them,” Smoak laughed. “We have to play nice, weren’t you paying attention last night?”
Ashley frowned. “Coach was talking too fast. I couldn’t understand all she said.”
Smoak kissed Ashley’s cheek, much to the delight of the crowd behind them. Ashley’s lip-reading was almost perfect, but fast-talkers and muttering still gave her trouble.
“You can still ask me, Ash. It’s why I’m here.”
Ashley smiled and squeezed Smoak’s hand, then both went back to cheering the Sharks, who had recovered the ball and were preparing to score the final touchdown of the game. They watched as the quarterback leaned back and threw the ball like a rocket. It spiraled down the field and landed in the hands of a junior named Derek. He spun and pushed his way through two Academy players, knocking them aside like bowling pins. He ran to the end of the field and took a knee just outside of the end zone, letting time run out and ending the game with the Sharks only ahead by a field goal.
Smoak, Ashley, and the rest of the Varsity squad erupted in shrieks and yells, their cries drowning out the crowd’s shouts of confusion. Then the Sharks fans began to applaud, finally understanding Derek’s sportsmanship. The Academy team had less experience and a smaller squad. It wasn’t a fair game to start with, and destroying them wasn’t necessary.
It was another hour before the field cleared, and the cheerleaders could go home. They were not only the Varsity cheer squad, they were also the school’s ambassadors, and they stayed as long as there were fans in the stands. Once everyone else had gone home, Ashley and Smoak started walking toward a distant exit that was close to the Mustang. They were speaking in sign language, quietly mocking the antics of some of the seniors who had just played their last high school game. Which was why Smoak heard the cries. She paused and held out a hand to stop Ashley, who looked at her curiously.
“What’s up?” Ashley asked.
“I hear someone,” Smoak replied. “Get to the Mustang and lock the door.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Smoak looked at her friend. “I think someone’s in trouble, and I’m going
to do something stupid. So please go get in the car.”
Ashley looked at Smoak and bit her lip. Smoak knew Ashley hated it when she did this, but knew better than to try to stop her. After a beat, Ashley nodded and jogged away, not looking back.
Smoak watched long enough to know she would make it to the car before tossing aside her pom-poms and hurrying toward the stands. The game had been popular enough that it had been held in the municipal stadium. Unlike most high school fields, the municipal stadium was surrounded by concrete stands, with only a handful of tunnels leading to the concession stands and parking areas.
The sound Smoak had heard came from one of the tunnels in the southwest corner. She paused at the end and glanced inside. With the sun in her face, it was hard to see if there was anyone lurking inside, but she could still hear the voices, two men and a girl who sounded terrified.
She stepped into the shadow and moved down the tunnel, her purple eyes searching for any hint of danger. She spotted the men in one of the side tunnels halfway down the corridor, and she stopped. The men were looming over a small red-haired girl who looked as if she would wet herself at any moment. The larger of the two, a swarthy man with his hair pulled into a ponytail, turned and looked at Smoak.
“Get going, kid,” he growled.
“What are you doing?” Smoak asked, walking forward. “The game is over, everyone is going home.”
The man let go of the girl and took a step toward Smoak. “None of your business, girl. Get out of here before you get hurt.”
Smoak ignored the man and looked at the girl. “Hey. My name is Smoak and everything is going to be okay, I promise.”
“It isn’t if she doesn’t tell us where her sister is,” the smaller man snarled.
“She obviously doesn’t know, moron,” Smoak replied. “She’s scared to death, leave her alone.”
The large man pulled a knife from a sheath at the small of his back. “I’ve had about enough of you, big mouth. Leave now!”
“Why? Cause you have a knife you don’t know how to hold?” Smoak asked. “I’m not frightened of you.”
The man growled and slashed at Smoak, a wild attack that would have terrified a normal person. Smoak was hardly normal and had been staring down blades as long as she could remember. She dodged the clumsy strike and kicked out with her left leg. Her foot knocked the blade from the man’s fingers, and she spun into a sweep that knocked him to the floor. She picked up the knife and held it easily in her right hand.
“I told you I wasn’t frightened,” she said. “You and your friend should leave us alone.”
The smaller man let go of the girl and swung at Smoak. She blocked the blow with her forearm and frowned at him.
“Who taught you to fight? Richard Simmons? I thought criminals were all badass.”
The man stepped back to shrug out of his shirt, displaying a tattooed chest. He tossed the garment aside and smiled at Smoak.
“Okay, kid, let’s see what you’ve got.”
He attacked, his blows clumsy but powerful. Smoak blocked all but the last one, which connected with her jaw and made lights dance behind her eyes. She backed away and spat out a gobbet of blood and flesh from the inside of her cheek.
“Not bad, old man,” she said. “You’re pretty tough against a cheerleader, huh?”
Smoak spun, her long leg flashing out in a kick that would one day shatter world records. The heel of her sneaker caught the man in the chin, making him sway and hold up an arm to defend himself. But Smoak was having none of it. Her second kick caught him in the stomach, and he fell into the wall, gagging on his lunch. The stolen blade gleamed in Smoak’s hand, and she stopped just short of putting it through the man’s neck. He gasped, blood rising at the top of his spine.
“I’m no cheerleader,” Smoak said. “Go away and never bother us again.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever you say” he said. “That kid isn’t worth this. Come on, Bruno.”
Smoak stepped back and watched the two men leave before dropping the knife and turning her attention to the younger girl crouching in the doorway.
“Are you okay?” Smoak asked, holding out her hand.
The girl took her hand and came out of the darkness. Smoak was amazed at how fiery the kid’s hair was.
“I’m okay,” the girl said. “They hadn’t really hurt me yet, just scared the bejesus out of me.”
“Good,” Smoak said. “What did they want, anyway?”
The girl shook her head. “I don’t know, they were looking for my sister, but she’s with a different Foster family. I don’t know where she is. Not really.”
“You should tell your family someone was looking for your sister,” Smoak said. “Just in case. But please don’t tell them about me, ‘kay?”
The girl nodded and Smoak turned toward the exit. “Come on, let’s bail, they might come back. Do you have a ride home?”
“I was going to take the bus, but I think I missed it by now. It’s okay, I can walk,” the girl replied.
“You were on the Academy side,” Smoak said. “That’s a long walk, even if you take the cut. Want a ride? My Mustang is just on the other side of the wall.”
The girl smiled. “Sure, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m Blaze,” the girl said after a few seconds. “What’s your name?”
Smoak took her sunglasses out of her top and put them on. “My friends call me Smoak.”
“Smoak. That’s a cool name.”
“I bought you ice cream on the way home,” Smoak said.
“Cherry, my favorite. Then you and your girlfriend took me home, and I thought I would never see you again,” Blaze said. “But I never stopped thinking about you. You’ve changed a lot, though. I didn’t recognize you at first.”
Smoak raised a hand to her face. “My face got rearranged about a month after we met. They put it back together as best they could, but it will never look the same.”
Blaze smiled and kissed her way along Smoak’s jaw. “I wasn’t complaining, honey. You’re beautiful. You were pretty when you were in school, but you had a hard edge to your face. It’s softer now, not so angry.”
“My friends called it the ‘Bitch Face.’ I guess Gaia was trying to tell me something when they put me back together,” Smoak said with a smile.
“Maybe she was telling you to relax,” Blaze said. “Not many people would have done what you did. I don’t know how many people walked past me that day, but it was a lot. You didn’t have to stop either, but you did. Maybe whatever happened was someone telling you to take a break.”
“I never took a break,” Smoak said. “I joined the service a few weeks later.”
“You’re already a hero, Kam. You don’t have to save the world.”
Smoak smiled and kissed Blaze softly. “I’m no hero, honey. I’m just always in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Maybe that’s what makes a hero. Being in the wrong place and not running,” Blaze replied.
“Maybe,” Smoak repeated. “I don’t know.”
Blaze frowned and rolled onto her side. After a while, she took Smoak’s hand.
“Can I ask you something?”
Smoak nodded. “Whatever you want.”
“The hair, the makeup, the nails, none of that is the girl I saw at the stadium that day. You had black nail polish and black stripes in your hair. You looked like the sort of girl who would be thrashing at a metal concert and breaking heads, not hanging upside down on a pole. The only thing about you that’s the same are the sunglasses and the attitude. I understand what happened to your face, but why the rest?”
Smoak paused, debating whether she should tell Blaze the truth. But she wasn’t sure she could handle telling Blaze and having the woman tell her to get out.
“I spent several years overseas,” Smoak said. “No makeup, no hair stylist, just a lot of mud, blood and sand. When I got home, I decided I needed something different. And here I am.”
/> It was partially true. When she’d gotten home, she had opted for a change, but only partially because she wanted to. It was also to hide who she really was. Working in the shadows and skirting the edge of the law was far easier if no one knew who she was. Her tattoo wasn’t that uncommon, they had two other girls with similar ones at Lollipops alone.
Blaze pursed her lips. “So this mane of beach blonde hair, these stripper-length nails and a job as a dancer is just ‘cause you wanted a change after Iraq? Isn’t that a little extreme?”
Smoak kissed Blaze’s pert lips. “Not if you’d spent all that time being one of the guys. It’s nice to have someone take care of my hair and hands, and I can use a little pampering. In a couple years, I’m sure I’ll cut my hair shorter and get rid of the nails, but for now, it works. Does it matter how I look?”
“As long as you’re happy, you can dye your hair pink and wear finger-puppets for all I care,” Blaze said. “I’m content to have you any way I can.”
Telling Blaze the truth was becoming a necessity, but she’d rather face a room full of enemy mercenaries than take a chance on losing this beautiful person. She was certain that Blaze was the one.
Smoak held her tight and stared at the ceiling, happy and terrified at the same time.
Ashley spent the afternoon digging through personal records and photographs, trying to find a physical match for Frulov at any of the places he frequented. She found a potential match in the least likely of places.
You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought.
“I think I found something, Rock,” she said. “It looks like Frulov’s doppelganger may have been the owner of B-52 across town. A man named George Green, nickname Geordi G.”
Rock straightened up in his seat. “B-52, that place made out of an old military hut?”
“The same,” Ashley said. “He owned several other clubs around town as well as Goldfinger’s over in Fort Lauderdale. That can’t be a coincidence.”
