Play Nice

by Gemma Halliday

  Dade shook his head in the dark. “It’s not a sob story. Everyone has their own trauma in life. I’m not unique in that. But it was hard. I was pissed, felt guilty, angry, and just sad. Sad that so many good people had died for no reason. So, I cried. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be scared sometimes.”

  She nodded. She knew that. But it didn’t change the fact that she hated those feelings. That feeling scared meant she wasn’t in control. And when all else in her life was in chaos, the very least she wanted to do was control her own emotions.

  When she was an agent, she had often prayed to feel human, to feel the compassion for her fellow man that she knew she should.

  Of course, at first that was all she could feel. She’d been sick the first time she’d put a bullet in someone’s chest, seen the blood ooze out, watched the life drain behind his eyes as the realization dawned on him that he was dying. She’d stood frozen, watching him fade, wasting so much time she’d almost caught a bullet herself. But she hadn’t been able to leave the man until she knew he was gone, the thought of him dying all alone too much to bear. She hadn’t slept for a week after that first time. The images coming back to her as soon as she closed her eyes, the man haunting her dreams as soon as she drifted off. He’d been an arms dealer, someone who had been responsible for countless deaths himself. But it hadn’t negated the way he had looked at her as his soul had slowly slipped away into whatever oblivion awaited him.

  After that first time, Anna had forced that part of herself to shut down. To turn off all emotion, become numb, as Petrovich had told her time and time again.

  And she had. Soon enough she’d been so numb she didn’t know how to turn that off. How to feel human again. Nerves she sometimes felt, anxiety, fear of being killed herself. But in that instant where her fingers locked on the trigger, squeezed, shot the life out of someone as they sat unsuspecting before her, she’d been trained to feel nothing.

  And she had hated it. Hated that they had taken the one thing she had left that was hers—her humanity. She prayed to feel, and when she’d stopped believing in anyone to pray to, she’d hoped, begged, pleaded with herself to feel something. She’d forced herself to look in their eyes as they died, to watch the life slide away from them. But she’d felt nothing.

  And now … in the cold, in the dark, beside a man she shouldn’t trust, she couldn’t stop feeling. Couldn’t stop the tears from falling for every person that she’d been numbed beyond humanity toward.

  For herself.

  For Dade.

  Without thinking, Anna reached a hand out toward him. In the dull moonlight filtering through the windows, his face was in shadow, the hard angles of his profile softened in the dark. She trailed her fingers across his cheek, tracing the outline of his jaw, feeling his rough stubble on the pads of her fingers.

  She heard him draw in a breath, sharp and sudden. But he didn’t move. His body was still, tense beside her.

  He didn’t know how to do close, either.

  But suddenly she wanted close. Was desperate for it. For the chance to be, for just one night, a part of something other than herself.

  She leaned forward in the dark, touching her lips to his.

  At first he was stone, unmoving. He didn’t even breathe as far as she could tell.

  She flicked the tip of her tongue out to lick his lower lip, softly opening her mouth to taste him.

  And he responded.

  His lips moved slowly at first, softly, tentatively, as if not sure how deep he wanted to get himself into this. She inched her body closer to his, feeling his warmth beneath the sleeping bag.

  She felt the moment when he gave in, the moment when he decided that he would allow himself this vulnerability. His arms went around her middle, crushing her to him. His hand went to her hair, not stroking gently now, but tugging, stinging her scalp. His kiss deepened, his breath coming hard against her cheek.

  Anna closed her eyes, lay back on the leather seats, and gave in to the feeling of … feeling. Feeling every touch of his body, every muscle pressing against her, every sensation of his rough cheeks brushing against her neck, his wet tongue running over her lips, his hands warm and strong, running up her thigh, down her back, beneath the hem of her T-shirt.

  She closed her eyes.

  And let it take over.

  * * *

  Anna lay in the dark, crickets chirping in the tall grasses nearby creating a symphony that she swore was just for her. Lenny snored in the front seat, a rhythmic, comforting sound. And Dade breathed softly beside her, his bare chest rising and falling in the moonlight. She couldn’t help grinning, laying a hand on his skin. He was warm. Solid.

  She closed her eyes. It was the first time in years that she had felt sated, relaxed. Her mind was as calm as the night, her body at ease. She lay still, enjoying the long forgotten sensation.

  Though, had she ever really felt this?

  Maybe. She couldn’t really remember now. But there might have been moments as a child when she’d felt warm, secure. Happy without any qualifiers attached.

  She closed her eyes, letting sleep come naturally to her.

  But it never got there.

  Because as soon as her lids dropped down over her eyes, the sound of gunfire tore through the side of the SUV.

  CHAPTER 20

  Dade woke instantly, rolling over on top of Anya in a protective instinct. He fumbled in the dark for the gun tucked into his pants. It took him a second to realize he wasn’t wearing any pants. He was groggy, out of it, a state he wasn’t used to being in.

  Anya wriggled out from beneath him and emerged with his M9 in hand. She shot two rounds out the shattered back window.

  Dade scrambled over her, grabbing a handful of clothing in the process, diving toward the front seat. He was about to turn the key in the ignition, when a shot hit the hood and the front end of the car burst into flames.

  He stared at the spot where his engine had just been for a moment before it sank in.

  “Shit!” he yelled, quickly scrambling to the back of the car, keeping low as the gunfire continued to hail on them from the driver’s side of the car.

  Anya had shoved herself into a pair of jeans, had her shirt half over her head. She was still pointing the gun out the back, sending rounds toward their unseen attackers.

  Dade pushed the back passenger side door open, then shoved Anya out ahead of him. He felt Lenny following a step behind, instinctively sticking close to the couple.

  Dade crouched low, sticking behind the SUV’s tires. He grabbed his gun from Anya, ducking out around the back end of the car and shooting off another couple of rounds. He was almost out of ammo, he knew. And it wouldn’t be long before the car blew, either roasting them along with it or completely obliterating any cover they had.

  “Into the bushes,” he commanded, shoving Anya ahead of him again.

  She went, grabbing Lenny by the collar as she did, diving into the overgrowth to their right. Dade provided cover, shooting out at unseen attackers until his gun reported a hollow click. He was out of bullets. It was a footrace now.

  He dove into the bushes after Anya, a hail of gunfire following him.

  He couldn’t see where she was, but he could hear her, crashing through the underbrush of the overgrown landscape. He followed the sounds, painfully aware that his pants were still in his hands as he raced away from the scene.

  He felt himself gain on Anya, the sound of her feet slowing as he approached.

  Unfortunately, in the distance, he also heard another set of feet entering the brush. Or two sets. More? He couldn’t tell, the noises all running together.

  “Dade!” he heard Anya call ahead of him.

  “Right behind you. Don’t slow down.”

  She didn’t answer, but he heard the sound of her feet picking up pace, Lenny’s bark echo in the darkness as the pair hit the edge of the clearing.

  Dade caught up to Anya just as an explosion rocketed through the sky. Heat hit his bac
k, knocking him to the ground. He turned around just in time to see orange and red flames reaching up into the air, the fire having reached the SUV’s gas tank.

  He scrambled to his feet, quickly shoved his legs into the pair of pants, and threw a shirt over his head.

  “Was that…?” Anya asked.

  “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

  The drive-in gave way to a service road that ran along the edge of a row of brick office buildings. The windows were all dark at this time of night as Anya and Dade ran past them. A shot whizzed past Dade’s ear, hitting the building and tossing chuncks of brick into the air. He ducked his head down to avoid shards in his eyes, instinctively putting himself between their pursuers and Anya as they ran. He pushed her sideways at the corner, veering left, then quickly right again into an alleyway leading north.

  More bullets followed them, pinging off the side of the building. Dade dove behind a dumpster, pulling Anya with him. A break in a chain-link fence behind them led into a yard beyond. Dade quickly pulled at the break, creating a hole large enough for Anya to crawl through. Dade shoved Lenny through ahead of him before following them both, feeling the rough links scratch at his back as he crawled over the earth on his belly. He sprang to his feet on the other side, grabbing Anya by the hand again, pulling her with him as he ran through the yard, back out onto the main street.

  Keeping behind the line of parked cars, Dade heard gunfire shattering windows as they raced past, one after another, car alarms blaring from the vehicles. Lights turned on in windows, the commotion drawing people out of bed.

  Dade turned right at the corner, then made a sharp left and another right.

  They race another three blocks zigzagging through neighborhoods and yards, Lenny loping along at their side, until the sound of car alarms began to fade in the distance, and the hail of bullets stopped whizzing by their ears.

  “Wait,” Anya said, collapsing behind a car.

  She was breathing heavily, sweat running down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “I’m not used to this anymore,” she panted, doubling over at the waist.

  He stood beside her, one arm draped around her shoulders as she caught her breath.

  “We need to keep moving,” he said. They’d outrun their attackers for now. But that wouldn’t be true much longer. They had a car, which Dade and Anna now did not.

  Anya nodded. “I know,” she panted. She held up one finger, leaned her head back, taking two big deep drags of oxygen, in and out. “Okay,” she said, “let’s go.” Though he could tell she still hadn’t caught her breath.

  Dade grabbed her hand, speed walking with no real destination in mind.

  He heard a car behind them as they turned onto the next street, and he pulled Anna to him, flattening her against the side of the building behind a trash can. Headlights approached, and he held his breath. He could feel Anya tense beside him.

  The car passed. An old VW bus.

  Relief drained out of Dade. He took Anya’s hand again, making tracks forward.

  They walked in silence, keeping to the shadows whenever a car approached, until they hit a more populous area where nightlife was still out and alive. Homeless people roamed the streets, the lights of all-night convenience stores blinking in neon, the bar crowd still stumbling home, as early risers went in search of their first lattes.

  Dade led the way to a BART station at the end of the block. Anya needed a chance to sit and catch her breath. If they boarded the train, at least they could keep moving while she did. He wasn’t sure where to go, but putting distance between them and the neighborhood was a good start.

  He purchased tickets from an automated machine, immensely relieved to find his wallet and phone still in the back pocket of his pants, and the three of them descended the escalator into the lower level to wait for the subway.

  The next train was heading east toward Oakland. Dade stood on the platform, waiting an excruciating five minutes for the train to arrive. He felt open. Exposed. If anyone had seen them enter the station, they were sitting ducks.

  Anya shifted from one foot to the other beside him. Her skin was pale and she was chewing on her lower lip.

  He put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into him.

  “Your shirt’s on backwards,” he mumbled into her ear.

  She looked down. Then back up at him, grinning. “You’re not wearing any shoes.

  She was right. In his haste to flee, he’d been lucky to manage pants.

  He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “You okay?” he whispered.

  She swallowed hard. Then nodded.

  The train carriage arrived, a whoosh of sound filling the tunnel, and Dade quickly ushered Anya in ahead of him, followed by Lenny.

  They settled into a pair of seats near the back of the car, facing the doors. Dade let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when the doors finally slid shut. No guys with guns had entered. No one was shooting at them, they were safe.

  At least for as long as it took to get to the next station.

  The car was scarcely populated at this time of night, occupied only by a couple guys in baggy jeans who’d obviously been drinking heavily enough to leave their cars behind, and a guy in an overcoat reading a paperback. The guy in the overcoat looked up when they entered, staring at the pair.

  Dade realized they must have presented an odd sight, both sweating, out of breath. Anya’s arms wore scratches where branches had hit her during their flight. Dade could see the same on himself. Not to mention he was barefoot.

  Dade didn’t realize it, but he must have stiffened, as Anya leaned in and whispered beside him.

  “He’s looking at Lenny. Dogs aren’t allowed on BART unless they’re in a carrier.”

  She reached down and scooped the animal into her arms, holding him securely.

  The guy shot her a look, but seemed reassured enough that he wasn’t going to get bitten that he quietly went back to his novel.

  They rode in silence, exhaustion hitting Dade as he realized that he now had no vehicle, no computer equipment, and a gun without any bullets. In the long run, most everything in his SUV could be replaced. But at the moment, they were items they sorely needed if they were going to make it through the next few hours alive.

  It was closing on 4:30 AM. Braxton’s rally was scheduled for one that afternoon.

  While he’d agreed that Anya’s plan to meet Petrovich head-on was a hell of a lot better than running from him forever, there were a couple things it didn’t take into account. Dade, for one. And his former employer, who was still waiting to see Anya become a problem of the past. Dade knew as long as she was alive, they would both continue to have targets painted on their backs, with or without Petrovich in the picture.

  Dade glanced over at Anya. Her head was tilted backward, leaning on the seat’s headrest.

  It had been a long time since he’d cared about someone else’s safety. Since he’d cared at all about a woman. He hadn’t lived a celibate life, but it had been a long time since he’d really been there with someone. Sex had been a release, an escape. Kind of like a bottle of wine. Smooth, enjoyable, but once it was empty, it was empty, and he moved on to the next one.

  He looked over at Anya.

  Her skin was beginning to regain an even color now, the bright pink on the apples of her cheeks fading, the white around her eyes darkening. Her chest was rising slower, the jittering in her feet still now. She closed her eyes and her lips parted just the slightest as she breathed. He felt a sudden urge to lean over and kiss her.

  But he didn’t.

  He couldn’t.

  Not knowing what he had to do this afternoon.

  Instead, he leaned his head back against the seat, listening to the steady rhythm of the train on the tracks, trying to reconcile what he’d just done with Anya at the drive-in with what had to be done at the senator’s rally.

  * * *

  Lenny wriggled in Anna’s arms.
She absently stroked his fur, her hands running down the length of his back as she watched the multicolored tile walls stream past her windows. It felt safer down here, like she was in some sort of cocoon in the tunnels, protecting her from the rest of the world. The warm, relaxed feeling she’d felt just hours ago—hours? God, it felt like a lifetime—was a thing of the distant past, a moment that she should probably never have indulged in and knew she wouldn’t let herself again. But the immediate adrenaline was starting to fade from her system, allowing her to gain control of her limbs again.

  Lenny whined, probably hungry. She rubbed the back of his neck to calm him. He could feel the tension in her, she knew. Animals were intuitive in that way, much more so than humans. They could feel their surrounding. Anna wished she could do the same. Maybe then she would have felt the attackers coming at her, had had some warning. Maybe she would have been able to get them out of there before they lost Dade’s car.

  Lenny wriggled again beneath Anna’s touch.

  “Shh,” she commanded. She ran her hand in smooth, soft strokes along his spine, over the top of his head, around the side of his neck.

  And that’s where her fingers felt something.

  She opened her eyes, running her hand along the side of his neck again. The folds of skin around his neck were thick, but as she smoothed them out against this body with her hand, she felt a lump. Small, almost indistinguishable from the rest of his skin, certainly hidden from view.

  But it was there.

  “Sonofabitch,” she breathed.

  Dade instantly tensed beside her, his hand going to the band of his pants. “What?”

  “Look,” she said, smoothing the skin out again so that Dade could see the lump.

  He looked, then shrugged. “What?” he asked again.

  “Give me your hand.”