A New Day (StrikeForce #1)

by Colleen Vanderlinden

  I blinked. “Good.”

  “You are more of a concern, Daystar,” she said. “As I was saying, you suffered severe oxygen loss at Maddoc’s hand. You’ve been in a coma for five days. We weren’t sure when, or even if, you’d regain consciousness. We very nearly lost you.” She paused. “You also suffered a heart attack, due again to the oxygen loss and the stress on your system. The technical term for what you experienced is cerebral hypoxia. We will see, over the next few days, how much permanent damage you experienced.”

  “Permanent damage?”

  My mother shook her head, and she was blinking back tears.

  “Usually, in cases like yours, we see brain damage. Loss of fine motor skills. You seem pretty cognitively aware right now, which is good.” She paused, then shook her head as if she was frustrated. “Why didn’t you just fly away from him?”

  I stared. Nobody knew. Why didn’t she know that I couldn’t have?

  “I… guess I just wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt my squad members who were already down,” I said quietly. “Um. Do I still have a metal band around my neck?”

  She nodded. “Alpha said you’d want it left on.”

  I had an entire deluge of curses in response to that, but my mother was sitting right there. “How considerate of him,” I said instead, gritting my teeth as a wave of shivers hit me.

  “That might happen. Nerve damage,” the doctor said. “We’ll observe you for a few days here while you recuperate, and then we’ll begin any rehabilitation you need. For now, I want you to rest. I’ll be back in a little while to look you over gain. Are you up for visitors?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  My mother leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you, ladybug,” she whispered.

  “I love you too, Mama. I’m fine.”

  She nodded.

  “Really. I’m fine.”

  “You heard her—“

  “We’ll deal with it, and I’m fine.”

  “You can come stay with me. Rest up and…” her eyes brightened again.

  “Mom, I’m not quitting StrikeForce,” I said quietly. It was easier than getting into why I couldn’t actually leave at the moment.

  She stared at me. “Jolene, you don’t even know if you’re able—“

  “I’ll deal with it. I’m not quitting.” At least, not when there were still so, so many things I still needed to do. “I’ll figure it out,” I added gently. “You look exhausted. You should go home and rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Okay. Should I send those other StrikeForce women in?” she asked, and it was evidence of how exhausted she was that she’d actually agreed.

  “Please. I love you.”

  She bent and kissed my forehead again, rested her forehead against mine. “I am proud of you. Of everything. I want it to stop, now, but I know better than to try to talk you out of something once you’ve set your mind on something.”

  “Wonder where I get my stubbornness from,” I murmured.

  She shook her head. “You’re stubborn and reckless and you make me crazy. But I love you.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, Mama.”

  She kissed me again, then walked out of my room. A few moments later, Toxxin ducked into the room, followed by Portia. Toxxin took one of my hands, bent close to me. “You saved my life. I saw it on the news footage afterward. You could have gotten away okay, and you went back and saved me,” she teared up, then bent her head. “You crazy woman. You saved me.” She squeezed my hand harder. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. I’ve never, ever been worth saving.”

  “Bullshit,” I said, and she let out a low sob. When I looked up at Portia, she was like stone. I’d never seen her so angry. Her eyes were practically flashing. “He should have undampened you. We asked him, over and over again.”

  “And Beta and Caine left without permission to come and help you, but they got there just after you knocked him out,” Toxxin said. “That was smart, to use my hand like that.”

  “I wasn’t sure it would work. Hoped it would, or I was screwed,” I said.

  “He’s an asshole. Dangerous. Worse than a rabid dog,” Portia hissed, and it took me a second to realize that she wasn’t talking about Maddoc, but Alpha. “He’s unfit to lead. He only does because he’s paying for it and he has this need to be worshipped and adored. And because he has us under control,” she added in a low voice.

  “You’re not wearing a dampener,” I pointed out. “And you have just the kind of power that would let you get out easily.”

  “No. I’m not. But he has someone I care about in the detention tower,” she said softly. “I leave, and things will get bad.” She paused, then went on. “He’s been in hiding, kind of, since it happened. He’s been in his office and won’t see anybody. He put Caine and Beta in detention. They’re out, but they’re fully dampened now, too.”

  I took a breath and it hurt. I wanted the tubes in my nose and mouth to go away. Swallowing felt even weirder with the stupid tubes down my throat, and the tape holding the tubes to my face was making me itchy. Plus, I was afraid of moving in case I pulled something by mistake.

  I closed my eyes. “Who isn’t dampened?”

  “Just me, Crystal, Chance, and Nightbane,” she said.

  I kept my eyes closed, thinking. No. They weren’t the only ones not wearing dampeners.

  “We’ll figure something out,” I said, opening my eyes again. “He’s going to put me back in confinement when I recover enough.”

  “And bring you out when we have to actually fight someone. Rather than fight himself, rather than train us to fight—“ Portia broke off, shaking her head, furious. “This is such bullshit. You were right all along. About all of it. And I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner.”

  “You had your own concerns. You thought you were doing the right thing,” I added, and her shoulders slumped.

  “I did. Until… well. I was a fool.”

  “Nothing we can do about it right now. I guess I have therapy and rehab coming up, once they figure out how bad it was.”

  They both looked uncomfortable, and I tried to pretend I couldn’t see it.

  “You might not be able to fight,” Toxxin said.

  “It would be better for her if she could. If she can’t fight, she’s not worth anything to him,” Portia said darkly, and I was inclined to agree with her.

  It was better for everyone if I could still fight.

  “See if you can catch it,” Dr. Ali said, tossing the soft, bright green ball to me. I brought my arm up, but it was like slow motion, and I watched the ball sail past me again, well before I’d even managed to get my hand in the air.

  Every time I missed the ball, I wanted to puke. How was I supposed to punch things if I couldn’t get my hand moving? I could still walk, which we’d established a few days after I woke up. My balance wasn’t great and it felt like I had to focus on every movement, like I had to try to remember how my legs were supposed to work. It was infuriating, but Dr. Ali was sure it would improve in time. Certain things, like getting a cup to my mouth, or picking up objects like books or phones, I was fine with. I was having major trouble with anything that required quick reflexes.

  There were other problems, too. My fine motor skills were shot. I couldn’t hold a pen. My handwriting, when I managed it, was huge, sloppy, the way it had been when I was in kindergarten. I couldn’t apply make up. Brushing my teeth required a special toothbrush with a larger, wider handle and pump toothpaste instead of a tube that I would have to squeeze. Water pick instead of floss. I couldn’t pick up small objects. My hands just wouldn’t work that way anymore.

  I did some exercises, at Dr. Ali’s instruction, then headed back to my room. Toxxin and Portia had come to see me every day since I’d woken up, and they were waiting for me when I got back.

  “How’d it go?” Toxxin asked. I gave her a look, and she bit her lip. “That good, huh?”

  I sat on the edge of my bed. “I
’m useless.”

  They didn’t seem to know what to say. And it was so much worse because I knew they were counting on me to… what? To fix the mess that was StrikeForce somehow? Laughable.

  “Um. There’s someone here to see you. Killjoy,” Portia added in a quiet voice, giving me a questioning look. “For some reason, Jenson let him in. And killed the cameras in your room.”

  My stomach twisted. Didn’t he realize that he was walking into the lions den? Jenson surely knew it. If Alpha wanted him collared and put away, which I had every suspicion that he did, he had walked right into it.

  “Can you send him in?” I asked, and they both went out. I saw Portia touch her comm, as if she was being spoken to. She turned to look at me.

  “Jenson just told us to stand guard outside your room and make sure nobody bothered you when he’s in there. It’ll be okay.”

  She seemed to get what I was worried about, and I was grateful. I gave her a nod, and a moment later Killjoy walked in, dressed head to toe in black as usual, face covered. I stood up, and he crossed the room in three long, fast strides, and took both of my hands in his.

  “Jesus Christ, woman,” he said, his voice sounding even more hoarse than usual. “I’ve been making everyone’s life miserable, trying to get in to see you.”

  “Are you stupid? You shouldn’t be here. If he finds out—“

  “He won’t. It seems that Jenson likes you. Or she likes me. One or the other. It’s okay,” he added. I had the stupid urge to lean into him, and, after a moment, I did. It was awkward, and I wanted to draw back almost immediately, worried that I’d done something stupid. But then he put his arms around me, and gently started rubbing my back. I took a breath and rested my head against his chest. “He’s dead. The first chance I get, I swear I’ll kill him myself,” he growled.

  “And then you’ll be labeled a villain, and not just a vigilante,” I said, pushing away from him. “He’s rich. He’s got connections. He has power over too many people here.”

  “He can’t just be allowed to go on with this,” he said.

  “I’ll figure something out. Once I figure out how to use these again,” I said, looking down at my useless fists. “I want them to bring a punching bag in here. If Dr. Ali won’t do it, I’ll ask Portia. Or Jenson. I need practice.”

  He nodded. “And that’s good. You do what you think you need to. But there’s something I want you to keep in mind.”

  I looked back up at him, wishing I could see his face, his eyes. “What’s that?”

  He took my hands, my clenched, useless fists, in his hands, held them gently. He rubbed his thumbs over the sides of my fists. “These fists aren’t the only ones at your disposal anymore. Point me in the right direction, I’ll be your fists. I can’t hit as hard as you, but I’ll do my best.”

  I tore my gaze away from our hands, at the sight of my small, pale fists in his large gloved hands, and I looked back up into his face. “That makes two of us. More than I can even say,” I said, and I hated that my voice caught a little. “But it’s not the same.”

  “It’s not. But you’re not alone. Toxxin, Portia, Jenson…. me. We’re all here. And we all want to make him pay.”

  I nodded. “Eventually, he will.” I pulled my hands out of his, mostly because the one thing I wanted to do most right then was stand there and lean on him, have him close to me. It wasn’t something I was ready to deal with anytime soon. “I have work to do, first.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “And I need you to promise me that you’ll stay away from here. You can’t help me if you’re in a cell somewhere,” I added before he could argue.

  After a moment, he nodded. “Fine.”

  “Someone has to be out there, actually helping people,” I added.

  “Do you have any idea how much they love you, Jolene? You should see it. After what Mayhem did, after seeing what Maddoc did, and the way you kept fighting… you have a whole lot of people who love you.”

  “Not if they find out who I really am,” I muttered.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that. Take care of our bigger problem, and that one disappears.”

  “Want to hear something crazy?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  “I was thinking, when it was down to Portia and me versus Maddoc, that it would have been a really good time for a vigilante to show up.”

  He nodded. “I saw it on the news and was thinking the same thing. I was in Chicago.”

  “Why?”

  “Work thing,” he said, shaking his head. I left it alone. There were still so many things I didn’t know about him, and I was too tired and my head was too full, trying to figure out how to fix my own life, that I just couldn’t focus on delving too deeply into his life just yet. “I wish I’d been here, though,” he added.

  His hands lifted to my throat, and his fingertips rested lightly on the thin metal band at the base of my throat. My dampener. “I hate this fuckin’ thing,” he said.

  “Me too.”

  His hands continued their soft touch, up my neck, to my jaw. His face was tilted down toward mine. “I’ve never seen anyone fight so hard. You’re unstoppable.”

  “Not completely, I guess,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.

  We stood together, and I wasn’t sure if I was happy or scared having him so close. He was a complication I didn’t need, a mystery I didn’t have the time to figure out. I knew that I trusted him. I also knew it was stupid to trust someone I barely knew, yet there it was. I knew that, in that moment, if I asked him to let me see his face, he would have taken the mask off. But I’d lived a whole life made of secrets and lies, and I knew that sometimes, we held onto them because we had to, because showing anyone who and what we really were was just too much to handle. I wanted him to show me when he decided to, not when I decided to nag him about it.

  “Thanks for the socks, by the way,” I murmured, looking up at him.

  “I’m glad you got them. I wasn’t sure.”

  “They are hideous.”

  “You probably don’t have enough hideous socks. Figured maybe you needed some.”

  I smiled, and it was the first time it felt real since that day with Maddoc.

  “I’ll send you more,” he said.

  “Lean down a little,” I said, and he did, slowly leaning down toward me. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, another to his jaw. I worked my fingers under the bottom of his mask and felt warm skin, the way his stubble lightly abraded my fingertips. He didn’t draw back or ask me to stop.

  I revealed just a sliver of his face, a small expanse of jawline from his chin to his earlobe, sprinkled liberally with golden-red stubble. I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his jaw, feeling his skin against mine for the first, and hopefully not the last, time.

  “I spend too much time thinking about you,” I whispered, pulling his mask back down.

  “You’re killing me here. You say something like that, after telling me I have to stay away for a while?” He leaned his forehead against mine. “And back at you, Jolene.”

  “It’s crazy,” I said.

  “Totally nuts,” he agreed. “But, then again, so am I, according to just about everybody.” He straightened up. “Let’s just kick his ass together.”

  I laughed. “And then what? No. He has too many people under his thumb, too many people who can’t decide what they want because of him. A simple ass-kicking isn’t going to solve all that.”

  “But it’ll make me feel better,” he growled, and I smiled.

  “And I appreciate the sentiment. But we’ll figure out another way. It’s not just me.”

  “You’re the only one I care about right now.”

  “We both know that’s crap,” I said as I rested my head against his chest again. “But you should totally remember that when we finally have a chance to spend some actual time together,” I added. And then, because there are some things I can still do with my hands, I reached down and gave his fir
m ass a squeeze. It was something I’d wanted to do since the first time I’d seen him.

  Dr. Ali did warn me that my impulse control might be a bit off now.

  He laughed a little. “Yes, ma’am. Looking forward to it.”

  “Now get out there and piss Alpha and Nightbane off some more. Make them look bad,” I said. Killjoy pulled the bottom half of his mask up and pressed a quick kiss to my jawline, just as I had kissed him. I appreciated that he seemed to know that my nose, my face in general, would still be tender from Maddoc’s fists. It made me adore him a little bit more. I realized it was ridiculous that I was likely, maybe, falling a little bit for someone whose face I’d never seen. But, really, of all the crazy things in my life, why not add one more?

  He drew away a tiny bit, drawing his mask back down before I’d even had a chance to see what his lips looked like.

  “My name’s Connor. Remember it,” he said before drawing back completely.

  “Not likely to forget it,” I whispered.

  “Good. Stay safe,” he said.

  “Stay crazy,” I told him. He laughed, and then he left my room. Toxxin peeked back in.

  “I’ll make sure he gets out okay. Jenson said your cameras are going back on in a bit before Alpha notices they’re off,” she said. And I blew a kiss at her.

  A while later, a portable punching bag showed up in my room while I was in the bathroom. I smiled, and then I stood in front of it and started hitting. My punches were slow, weak. Nowhere near what they once were.

  But it was a start, and right now, my life was all about fresh starts and trying to find a new beginning. After an hour, I was sweating and sore, and my forearms hurt from the repeated impacts of fists against bag. I finished up, did the exercises Dr. Ali had recommended (focusing on moving each finger individually, practicing picking up coins from the small table in my room) then I took a shower. When I came out, Dr. Ali was waiting in my room. She looked angry.

  “What’s up, doc?” I asked, and she rolled her eyes.

  “Very funny, Faraday. Look. I tried. I want you right here for at least a few more weeks…”