by Fiona Quinn
Rowan laughed as he pulled off the rest of his clothes, glad that his dick was getting hard so he didn’t have the infamy of cold shrinkage. He’d been in SERE training—survival, evasion, resistance, escape—after long days with blaring music and strobe lighting, they’d taken them out of their cages and lined the team up, spraying them with freezing cold water. His dick had crawled up into the warmth of his abdomen to nestle in when they brought in a pack of women to point and laugh. It had been pretty humiliating. And that’s how he knew the impact of Clara telling Sergei, with her lip curled in disdain, that he had a pathetic penis.
Yeah, male egos could be fragile about things like that.
He stepped to the back of the tub and climbed in, straightening out his legs on either side of Avery, letting her rest back against him.
They cuddled there, not saying anything. The quiet was comforting, peaceful.
After a time, he leaned her forward and he combed his fingers through the wet strands of her hair and braided them into a rope. He cupped warm water over her breasts and shoulders. She leaned up and kissed him. Her kiss felt contented.
“We need to talk about us,” Rowan said after a while. “I care for you very much. I want to see where this might go. I see a future for us. I want to know if that’s what you’re feeling too.”
She nodded.
“I can feel you thinking about complications. You have a very busy mind, Avery.” He kissed the top of her head and went back to cupping up the water to keep her warm.
“You said you’re leaving.”
“I’m gone a lot. I can talk to you most days. We can video chat even if I’m gone.”
“And some days not…because you’re on a mission of some kind.”
“Mission…well, I’m working. And I don’t have nine to five hours. And there’s the time zone issue.”
“And the worrying about you issues.” She turned to her side so her ear was to his heart, and she could see the bruises along his ribs. Her fingers traced over the colors now starting to fade. “You aren’t allowed to explain things like this to me, are you? I’m not allowed to know where you are, am I? In effect, there’s always going to be a big chunk of your life that I’ll know nothing about.”
“There’s that. That’s exactly right.”
“How long do you go away? Days? Weeks?”
“It can be months. If I’m gone for a stretch like that, you could come for long weekends where I meet you in a different country. That might be problematic for you because of your mom. Maybe your sister could help.”
“After today, that’s going to have to change. I’m just not capable of keeping her safe unless I board up her window and lock her in her room.”
Rowan wrapped his arms around her and tucked her under his chin. “What happened today?”
“Can we not talk about my mom right now? I’m trying to pretend that isn’t part of my life this week. I was really trying to remember what it was like to be me the way I was before my dad got sick.”
“We can hold off talking about it while you’re in New York, but when you get home will you tell me?” He tipped his head to the side to see her eyes.
“Sure.” She sighed, and he felt her lashes flutter against his skin as she closed her eyes, turned, kissed his chest, then nestled back in.
Her body had tensed.
Rowan kept cupping up the water and rubbing his hand over her skin in a steady rhythm until she let that tension go.
“We were talking about dating,” he said. “And I was explaining that my job is very much like being in the military. I get sent overseas. I get called in when there’s a matter that needs my attention, which sometimes interrupts plans. Often those are important plans. I miss things that shouldn’t be missed, like birthdays and special events. As you pointed out, like special ops for the military, I can’t tell you anything about anything. That part of my life is a closed book.” Then he thought about Clara and decided Avery needed as clear a picture as he could draw, even if it frightened her off. “There are times when I need to pose as part of a couple. And in those cases, I need to act the part.”
“So you’ll hold hands with another woman?”
“Yes.”
“Kiss them?”
“Yes.”
“Have sex with them?” Her voice tightened, and Rowan knew that was her line in the sand. Up until now, she’d weighed and accepted.
“So far, no. And I can’t imagine that. I really can’t. If it ever did happen I would tell you. I might not be able to tell you why, but for your health’s sake, and because I feel it’s the moral thing to do, I would tell you, you’d never have to wonder.”
She said nothing.
“But I’ve never even come close.”
“How close?”
“Petting.”
She sucked in some air. Held it. Pressed it out through pursed lips.
“Rarely. And I’d tell you that too.”
She said nothing.
“All the issues with my job have proven unsupportable in my past relationships. I want to be fair to you and tell you, it’s been hard on me and on the women I’ve dated.”
“Did you love these women? Did they love you?”
Rowan considered that. That was certainly an interesting question.
“Love might have helped. I think, if I were to be honest, I dated women who had the qualities that I thought were important in a life partner. I want to be married. I want kids.”
“How many kids?”
“Four.”
She moved her hand to wrap his waist. “Four is a lot.”
“Or it’s just right.”
She didn’t answer.
“I think I was kind of looking for a woman like one might hire an employee.”
She tipped her head back to look at him.
He dropped a kiss onto her nose. “That sounded colder than the truth. I was here in America for short bursts of time. I was looking for my life’s partner. I didn’t have time to mess around, so I figured out what I thought was important, and then I looked for chemistry.”
“But I asked if you loved them.”
“No, I’ve never been in love before now.”
She leaned further back and looked at him with eyes held wide.
“The kiss in the lobby after you threw yourself into my arms.”
She nodded. Her eyes still wide and unblinking.
“We’ve talked as friends for years. I’ve sought your input and insight for years. I’ve respected and enjoyed you as a person for years. And then there you were.”
“All your boxes ticked?”
“Stop. I wasn’t thinking in those terms. Instead of chemistry to relationship, this was a relationship that turned out to be full-on chemistry. Don’t you think?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Rowan
Friday Morning
New York City
Rowan watched Avery in the glow of the clock readout. He loved her face. He loved how angelic she looked in her sleep, loved her smiles, loved when her brow creased and her gaze grew thoughtful and serious. He loved watching her come. Loved her.
He loved her.
This was what it was like.
It was glorious, and it was terrifying. He was thinking about her work with Windsor Shreveport, and he was thinking that Lisa was coming into town to make Avery an asset to help them identify Taylor Knapp.
Avery needed to cooperate for the country’s safety, and for her own safety.
These fringe groups of wackos were getting more and more emboldened. Just last week a man ran down almost a dozen women in his white van just because they were women, and he was angry at women as a group because they had turned him down for sex.
It wasn’t a religious group.
It wasn’t a political ideology.
It was a man who thought that women were mean because he wasn’t getting laid. So he plowed down random women, killing them to show his displeasure in his circumstances. This was a who
le new kind of risk.
His phone vibrated on the bedside table.
Rowan reached for it before it woke Avery.
Lisa.
“I’m here.”
“Where’s here?” Rowan whispered.
“Here at your hotel.”
“Lisa, it’s two a.m.”
“Which is why I called, and I’m not pounding on your door.”
He slid from under Avery. “I’m coming down now.”
He pulled on his gym outfit and kissed Avery on the shoulder, whispering, “I have to go talk to someone in the lobby. I’ll be back up soon.”
Avery lifted her head to see the clock. “Now? What is it?” She rolled toward him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just work. Sometimes there are things that are too sensitive to send electronically, and we have to communicate in person.”
“At two in the morning?”
“I’ll be back,” he said and left, checking that the door locked behind him.
He took the elevator. His heart pounding. Lisa wasn’t supposed to get here until tonight. Two in the morning was cause for alarm.
She was standing in front of the elevator bank, back to the wall. “Hey, sorry.”
“No.” He grabbed her elbow and moved her toward the empty breakfast room. They sat at a table in the dark.
“It wasn’t Jodie in your house,” Lisa said.
“It would be hard to imagine it was. But how do you know it wasn’t her? Did you two talk?”
“I went by her place. Her neighbor said she went on an emergency cruise to get over some asshole who broke her heart.”
“I probably deserve that term. I let things go on way too long. But you checked on it?”
“I got on her Facebook, and she’s posting pictures. She cut her hair. It’s a new color.”
“That’s something women do isn’t it? A break up haircut?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“How did you get here at two in the morning?”
“I drove.”
“So it’s serious.”
“You could say that.”
She swiped open her phone and spun it toward Rowan. He flipped through her gallery. Lisa’s house was trashed. Just like the pictures Lisa had sent earlier from her phone of his own place. “They were looking for something?”
“I doubt it. If they were serious about finding something, they would have cut my wall safe out and taken it with them. Both of our safes were intact and unmolested.”
“You called the cops?”
“No, I handed it over to the FBI. This wasn’t an ex getting revenge. This was a targeted attack. I told them about your place. I gave them your key and alarm code. They’re doing forensics.”
“It’s got to be work related.”
“My conclusion,” she said.
“Anyone else?” Rowan asked as he opened a photo wider to see the details better.
“Just us as far as I can tell.”
“When you went to my place, do you think that they followed you home? Is that how they found you?”
“I went from your place, to the gym, to work. When I got home, I found this. It happened in broad daylight. But everyone in my neighborhood works, no one was home. It’s actually the safest time of day to attack.”
Rowan spun the phone. “This symbol—a heart with a lightning shape striking it—was on my house too. Is that why you thought it was Jodie to begin with?”
“Yup, jumped right to that conclusion despite my training.”
“Understandable, though.” Rowan studied the symbol. “Have you seen this before? Is it associated with a known group? Does it have street meaning?”
“Think about the hostiles who tried to get to you on your run, did they seem street to you?”
“No, they seemed to be suburban wannabees.” He handed the phone back to her. “Nothing we can do right now. Not our skill set. Let the techs come in and see what they can figure out. They’ll want your phone though.”
Lisa wrinkled her nose. “They already have it. This is a new one.” She slid the phone back in her pocket. “The FBI won a big one tonight. Have you been playing house or did you listen to the news.”
“What happened?”
“They arrested a lieutenant in the Coast Guard on drug and gun charges.”
“Okay, get to the interesting part.” Rowan cast his eyes toward the elevator, wondering if Avery was lying in the bed, thinking that his leaving her in the middle of the night was something she couldn’t tolerate. He was anxious to get back up there.
“It looked kind of cut and dry, but it turns out he has ties to neo-nazi groups, white supremacists, he had a hit list and access to HQ. He was planning to check out and make it memorable. He planned to take the whole place down with him.”
“Shit.”
“And so I made a phone call because it’s part of my job to know this kind of thing. And guess what game this guy played almost non-stop, according to his computer data.”
“The Unrest.” Rowan planted his hands on his knees and exhaled hard.
She nodded.
“Okay. Are you staying here?”
“Just down the block. What does your day look like today?”
“I’ll see you get there safe.” He stood.
“Hell no, you’re not going to see me there safe. Mr. Macho-man. I’m trained by the US Army.”
“And this is a big city, and it’s the wee hours of the morning. Look, Lisa. I need to sleep. Do you think I can sleep if I’m worried about you?”
“Fine.” She stood. “You can ride in the cab with me, watch me walk into the place, and you can have the car turn right back around.” She moved toward the door, pulling up the taxi app. “Now, why do you need your beauty sleep? What’s going on today?”
“I have a conference call with Iniquus. Prescott signed a contract with them. We’re assigned to Panther Force. Their team leader is Titus Kane. Honey and Thorn are on that team. I know them. I’m glad to get this in place. I’ll bring Kane in to meet with our task force on the Taylor Knapp case, probably Monday if he can make time in his schedule. I’d like you to be there. Short notice, but we have a small window to figure this out. I’m hoping that after you talk to Avery tonight, we’ll have something actionable for them. Lisa,” they pressed through the doors and moved to the sidewalk, “tonight when we’re with Avery, keep me out of the FBI talking points. I’m not your wingman on this. I’m Avery’s boyfriend.”
“That was fast. Zero to sixty in three point five seconds.”
“Not really.” They stood against the wall out of the rain. “We’ve been friends for years. After Jodie and I called it quits, I reached out to her in a more personal way than I had in the past. We were friends that had writing in common and kept it to that. Anyway, when we met in person, it all clicked into place. It’s right. I’m not messing this up.” He lifted his chin toward the cab that was heading their way. “And I’m not letting anything that’s going on with Taylor Knapp bring crap into her life.”
“Okay Valentino.” Lisa grinned. “I’ll wear the FBI hat, and we’ll see if there’s danger on her horizon. We’ll play it cool. Well, I’ll play it cool, stud muffin. You can play it hot.” Lisa cackled.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Rowan
Friday Night
New York City
“Do you remember the time when you were trying to explain to the twittersphere that stories were a survival technique?” Rowan asked Avery.
They had a cozy corner of the Salty Nomad lounge reserved and paid for. It was a place that was designed for people who needed to meet casually and publicly but who wanted their conversations to be private. The walls were padded and covered in velvet to absorb sound. The wait-staff would only approach when you pushed the candle to the edge of the table.
Unless you knew, you’d never know that this was a place that was built to hold secrets. It was a subtle but lucrative business plan. Rowan was glad he’d b
een able to get the space.
Avery should feel relaxed here.
They sat on the comfy chairs. On the table in front of them, a sampler platter of hors d’oevres steamed with delicious spices. Their drinks sat untouched.
“What’s this?” Lisa asked, per their strategy. “I don’t remember reading that. Survival strategies on Twitter?”
“Oh, it’s just that one of the best ways people learn how to survive is through stories that are told to them,” Avery explained. “For example, I know that I shouldn’t hitchhike, let’s say, because I’ve heard horror stories of what happens to people who do.”
“Some of those stories don’t bear out,” Rowan said. “I never ate an apple from my Halloween bag for fear that there was a razor blade in it. But that whole thing’s an urban myth, so I missed out on nutrition all because I listened to some story.”
Lisa scowled at Rowan. “Where did you grow up that people were putting apples in your Halloween bag, Lamesville?”
“And what’s more,” Avery said. “Our brains love stories. Love them. The brain wants us to read stories and learn from them, so it dumps feel-good reward hormones into our systems, so we seek out stories, get tangled up in them, live them in our heads as if they are real, so we can assimilate the lessons as our own.”
“That seems really dangerous, depending on the story you’re reading. A kind of indoctrination,” Rowan said, sending a look toward Lisa.
“Can be, I guess,” Avery said. “I like to know what folks read. It gives me a lot of insight. Though, it’s not always a good indicator. My best friend Lola,” Avery stopped and nodded at Rowan to make the connection for him, “reads horror, but she is the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever known.”
“If people already had something going in their lives, would they seek it out in stories? Like, do people in the military choose military thrillers to read?” Lisa asked.
Avery blushed. “Well, I edit romance… I don’t know how that lines up psychologically. I’ve never seen a study. I’d assume it depends. It could be they’re reading for affinity. Could be that someone is trying to safely explore their shadow side. Or maybe they’re filling a void with the books they choose. Yeah, that’s an interesting question. I’ll see if I can’t find some studies that speak to that. That’s actually an important question. Thank you for asking it.”
