“I’m not avoiding you. I’m your bodyguard,” I argue.
“Caleb, you haven’t looked me in the eye in a week. Either you’ve got quite the crick in your neck or you really like my shoes — but I’m guessing it’s neither.”
I sigh and raise my head to look at him. He instantly smiles and my muscles turn to jelly. “There. I looked at you. Can I have a moment to myself now?”
“Not yet.” He clears his throat. “I still have something to say.”
“Then say it.” I keep my eyes steady on him, desperately trying not to swoon. Somehow, he’s grown more attractive since that night.
“Okay…” He shifts over to Fox’s cot and sits down across from me, giving me his complete attention. “I think — and it’s possible you might, too — that the two of us kind of got off on the wrong foot…” His hands jerk nervously. “And I don’t mean that in a puny way. I wasn’t referencing the two of us getting off—”
I deepen my glare. “Boxcar.”
“Right—” He shakes his head. “Obviously, I like you, Caleb. I think you’re beautiful and strong but there’s so much more to you than that. I would like the chance to go back in time and get to know you as if the night in the jeep never happened — as amazing and strange as it was.”
“Strange?” I raise a brow.
“Well, I don’t know about you but beautiful women don’t often mount me in public places.”
I fight my chuckle. “Okay. Strange it was.”
“What say you, Caleb Fawn?” he asks. “Can we start over? As friends?”
Those damn green eyes. “Fine,” I say.
He points down at my revolver. “Where did you even get that?” he asks. “Doesn’t exactly look government issue.”
“It…” I hesitate, choking on every lie before the truth slips out. “It was my father’s.”
“They let you bring it out here with you?”
“No, it—” I pause and my eyes linger on his for a moment more. “He found it out here and his C.O. gave it to me when I arrived.”
Boxcar’s brow rises with interest. “Your dad’s out here, too?”
“Not anymore,” I answer. “His convoy was hit by a pipe bomb just before I enlisted.”
He blinks and opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out. “Damn…” he finally whispers.
“His C.O. told me my dad never fired it; said he was saving it for a special occasion, whatever that means. Apparently, he always kept it on him except for the one time he forgot it in his footlocker…” Boxcar eyes twinge with sympathy. “It’s been my good luck charm ever since.”
“Can I hold it?”
“No.”
He raises his hands again and chuckles. “Okay.”
His smile tickles my toes but I shake it off, hardening my shell. “What else do you want to know?”
“Where are you from?” he asks.
I hesitate for a moment, feeling a bit of self-consciousness ease in. I wasn’t expecting to dive into even more of my history so quickly but I guess I shouldn’t feel so weird about sharing intimate details with someone I’ve already been intimate with. “Oklahoma.”
Boxcar pauses. “Whereabouts?”
“I was born in Tulsa. Grew up in Oklahoma City.” I watch his face, noting the dots connecting in his brain to form a new picture of me. “You?”
“Tennessee,” he replies. “Born and raised in Memphis.”
“Really?” I look over at him. “Do you like Elvis?”
“No one from Memphis likes Elvis,” he chuckles. “Fox told me you like movies.”
“Did he?”
“He did.”
“What else did you get out of him?”
Boxcar chews his lip. “Not a lot but I get the feeling he doesn’t know much to tell.”
“That’s probably true.”
“What’s your favorite movie?”
I chuckle. “That’s a pretty loaded question.”
“Try and narrow it down to one,” he smiles and shifts slightly on the cot but maintains a cool confidence in his eyes that I haven’t noticed before. “Off the top of your head — first one you think of.”
“The Shining,” I say quickly.
He tilts his head. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“It’s awesome. It’s scary and funny, often at the same time.” Excitement surges through me. It’s rare for me to find anyone out here that wants to talk movies. “I’ve always had an odd thing for Jack Nicholson, too. Even when he’s threatening to bash Wendy’s brains in he never quite loses his adorableness.”
“You’re a little messed up, Caleb Fawn,” he jokes, grinning.
“Does that change your opinion of me?”
“Nah.”
“Well, what about you? What’s your favorite movie?”
“The Lion King.”
I pause. “Your favorite movie is The Lion King?”
“Hell yes,” he nods with zeal.
“Why?”
“You try watching that opening sequence and not shedding at least one tear!” We laugh. “It’s got everything. It’s heartbreaking, it’s hilarious, it’s got an artsy love scene set to a cheesy Elton John song — it’s perfect.”
“Okay.” I wet my lips, forcing my smile to calm down. “I’ll accept that answer.”
“Also... I always liked the idea of becoming something bigger than yourself,” he continues. “You might be a weak kid now but someday you’ll be a king, you know?”
I nod softly. “I guess I can relate to that.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, yeah. I’m from Oklahoma.” He laughs. “Where I’m from, every girl dreams that someday they’ll get out of this dump, move to New York or Hollywood, become some big star, and everyone who ever wronged them would end up shining their shoes.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a lazy shrug. I gesture around. “Obviously, not every dream comes true.”
He gazes back at me, pausing to let the words sink in. “I guess I can relate to that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t dream of getting trapped out in the Afghani desert, dying of heat exposure?” I quip.
“I can’t say I did,” he laughs, “but I guess it hasn’t been all bad, right?”
I give a short smile, feeling a sharp, pleasurable twinge in my core. “I guess not.”
His eyes fall to my lips but he quickly looks away and stands up off the cot. “Well, I won’t bother you anymore,” he says. “I just wanted to clear the air and all that…”
“Boxcar.”
“What?”
I shift my boots to the floor and stand up, ignoring every ounce of regret screaming inside of me, and I lay my lips on his cheek. I feel him tremble as I kiss him and when I pull back, his eyes are twice as wide as before. He blinks quickly to hide it.
“I just wanted to do that,” I tell him.
“Cool,” he says, smiling and shrugging his shoulders. “Hey, I’m gonna go grab some dinner. You want to join—”
“Don’t push it.”
He spins around, grinning wide. “It was worth a shot.”
My own smile spreads, this one far too intense to hold back. This damn guy. No matter how hard I try to distance myself from him, he keeps pulling me back in with each new moment feeling newer and warmer than the last.
He wanders out of the tent, leaving me alone with a very real, peculiar sense of being watched.
“Well, that was interesting.”
I jolt as Fox walks into the tent. “How long have you been out there?” I accuse.
He smirks. “Since The Lion King.”
I sigh. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Liar.”
“We’re friends.”
“No, you and I are friends, Caleb,” he grins. “You two are not friends.”
I scoff. “Shut up.”
He chuckles and plop
s down onto his cot as I sit on mine. “I’m not poking fun here, Caleb. I think it’s great — maybe a little irresponsible given the setting — but great.”
“Exactly,” I say. “This could be very bad for both of us.”
“Well, just be smart about it and you’ll be okay.” He glares at me. “You know… no more sneaking off to midnight rendezvous together…”
I blink. “You saw that?”
“I might have.”
“Crap…” I eye him closely. “Wait — how much did you see?”
He holds up his hands. “I didn’t see anything. Just him pulling you out of bed… and you coming back a half hour later looking like you just committed murder.”
My shoulders sink. “This is bad.”
He smirks. “But I guess it hasn’t been all bad, right?” I roll my fingers into a fist and reach over to slam it against his shoulder. He winces with painful laughter and moves his hands up to block a second hit. “I’m sorry,” he laughs. “I couldn’t resist.”
I settle back, letting my fingers relax. “It was a good line, though, wasn’t it?”
Fox nods. “He really likes you, Caleb. Don’t break his heart too badly.”
“What makes you think I will?”
“I’d answer that,” he says, “but you’d probably hit me again.”
“Fair enough. I’ll spare you the pain.”
“Thank you.” He lies down on his cot and closes his eyes.
My ankles bounce, plagued by a nervous jitter that I haven’t been able to shake for days and that little kiss on the cheek just made it so much worse.
“Hey, Fox — you hungry?”
“Just go,” he smirks.
“Okay.” I stand up and bend down to slide my boots on.
“Caleb.”
I turn back to Fox. “Yeah?”
He peeks out at me through one open eye. “Be smart,” he reminds.
I look down to hide the blush invading my cheeks. “I will.”
Fox closes his eyes but his smirk remains as I step outside into the camp. Dusk eases into the sky, painting even the golden sand a deep shade of blue. A bustle of laughter and voices draws me towards the other side of camp where most have gathered for what passes as dinner around here, Boxcar included.
He sits alone, as usual, gazing at his laptop screen. It reflects off his lenses and as I drift closer, I notice the satellite feed glaring back at me.
I ease into the seat across from him without saying a word. His expression doesn’t change and I wait a few moments to see if it does. I expect him to smile back at me as he closes the laptop and perhaps fold his hands together in front of him to hide the red in his face, but he doesn’t. His eyes eventually pop up at me but he holds that somber expression with an iron will.
“They’re back,” Boxcar finally says.
“Who’s back?”
“Them…” He turns the laptop in my direction and I stare at the image, instantly recognizing the layout as the warehouse we checked out weeks ago.
“The convoy?” I ask.
He nods. “I’ve been watching this place like a damn hawk. No one has come anywhere near it since we left it until about ten minutes ago. One car drove up and two guys got out — it’s gotta be the ones that brought me here, I can just feel it—”
“I thought you were going to let this go, Boxcar.”
“Would you?” he asks. “Be honest, Caleb. If these people dragged you down here and tried to kill you, wouldn’t you want to know a definitive reason why? It couldn’t have been for nothing.”
I bite my inner cheek. The last thing I want to do is fuel this obsession but I don’t want to lie to him either. “Okay, fine,” I answer, “but there’s nothing you can do about it. Command told us to ignore it, so—”
“Command told the military to ignore it. Not me. I can go — tonight. They haven’t been there long, there’s still time to get there before they disappear again.”
I blink. “And do what? Ask them politely why they almost executed you? It’s stupid, not to mention suicide.”
He pulls the laptop towards himself again. “I might not get another chance, Caleb…”
“Is that really the worst thing in the world?” I ask. “You’ve already escaped, Boxcar. As your bodyguard, I strongly deny this request for you to leave camp.”
“I’m not asking permission,” he says. “Just a blind eye.”
“Box…” I inhale a deep breath. “If you really want to go there, then be smart. Tell Rhys.”
“I’m not bringing other people into this.” He shakes his head. “No way.”
I push out of my seat. “Then I will.”
“Caleb—” Boxcar reaches across the table and grabs my hand, drawing the eyes of most everyone around us.
“Boxcar, there’s not a single person here that will condemn you for what you did,” I say. “Gun to the head, I’m pretty sure all of us would have made the same choice.” His grip relaxes on my fingers but it doesn’t fall. “If you want to find out what’s going on in that warehouse, then this is your best chance. You don’t have to trust them, but trust me.”
He inhales a deep, frustrated breath and drops my hand. “All right…”
There’s betrayal in his tone but I can’t just let him wander out there and get killed. I feel a connection to Boxcar, one I’m not entirely sure how to describe, but I one thing is certain: I’m not ready to let it go yet.
Not until I know for sure what it means.
Chapter 16
Caleb
Los Angeles
Present Day
“Does this look better in green or blue?”
I raise my head again. Lilah stands in front of a mirror in the corner with two expensive cocktail dresses in either hand hanging off padded clothes hangers. Her eyes look back at me with expectation, like we’re just good friends out for a day of shopping and caramel lattes but — in my experience — one friend usually isn’t duct taped to a chair, pumped full of a rather extreme sedative.
My tongue feels weak and heavy but at least I’ve stopped slurring. “No idea.”
She scoffs and tosses the blue one down before sliding the green one off its hanger. “You know, you’re making this whole thing way more unpleasant than it needs to be.”
I force a laugh and look around the abandoned boutique. It wasn’t quite this deserted twenty minutes ago when Lilah walked in here and politely asked everyone to leave while Elijah knocked out the poor check-out girl. She’ll wake up eventually, although I’m surprised they are so willing to leave a trail of witnesses around, given their job titles.
Lilah pulls her shirt up and over her head and I catch sight of the black cobra tattoo swirling down from between her covered breasts, nestled inside a tight, red bra. I’d only seen Fox’s tattoo once. He wants to have it removed but every tattoo removal place in the country has been on high alert since Snake Eyes was exposed. Something tells me the Harts aren’t too eager to remove theirs. They seem like the type that take a lot of pride in their work.
“I’m really digging the green…” Lilah ponders aloud. “It brings out my eyes...”
“I don’t know…” I quip, staring at the bright, crimson shiner taking hold of her forehead. “Green and red are more holiday colors, don’t you think?”
She spins around to face me and her lips twitch. “Cute.”
I shrug.
Lilah pushes the dress down to the floor and grabs the blue one to try on as Elijah steps in from the back.
“For fuck’s sake, Lilah…” he says, shaking his head and averting his eyes. “Is this really the time for that?”
“Hey—” she says, sliding the blue dress down over her sizable chest. “This bastard is taking too long. I’m bored and I never get to buy new clothes.”
“Because we don’t exactly have anywhere to put them,” he points out. “We live on the road, remember?”
“Not for very much longer, if you’re to have your way.” She steps b
ack in front of the mirror to check out the dress and tilts her head in approval. “You know what — I think you’re right, Caleb. Blue is better.”
“Yay,” I mutter.
Elijah hops up to sit on the counter and crosses his arms. “My way?”
“Oh, please,” she says. “You’re obviously considering going through with what Dante suggested.”
“And you’re not?” he replies.
“No. Of course, I’m not.”
She pulls the dress off and Elijah twists his neck in my direction, rolling his eyes with annoyance. It’s clear which one of them inherited modesty and which one obviously has no shame whatsoever. “Lilah, I just think that it might be nice to try living a normal life for once in our lives,” he says.
“Uh-huh…” she murmurs, her eyes full of suspicion as she slips back into her own shirt.
“I really don’t think there’d be any harm in trying,” he fires back. “It’s not like I’m about to go shopping for a mini-van or anything.”
“Okay… Caleb—” she chuckles, looking over at me as she zips her pants up. “You and I aren’t that different.”
“We’re what now?” I ask.
“We both come from very interesting backgrounds,” she says, counting on her fingers. “We’re both highly-trained in various forms of combat and possess unique, but valuable, survival skills…”
“What’s your point?”
She sighs. “When you came back from the war… did normal life come easy?”
“Lilah, come on—” Elijah interrupts. “No offense to you, Caleb, but this doesn’t seem like the type of thing we need your opinion on.”
“Don’t be rude, Elijah,” she says, batting her thick eyelashes. “Her opinion is just as valid as anyone else’s.”
“I’m not saying it isn’t but it might be a bit tainted considering we tied her to a damn chair.”
“Caleb — be honest.” Lilah crosses her arms in defiance. “You came back home and you looked around. Were you happy to be here or were you confused as all hell?”
My attention shifts between them. “Oh, it was great, actually,” I say, forcing a tight smile. “Normal life is the best thing ever. In fact, you two should start right now. Go home. No hard feelings. Bye-bye.”
Elijah raises a victorious brow at his twin. “See?”
Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance Page 12
