by Carly Fall
She frantically looked around for something to wrap herself in, finding nothing. She focused on the bed. A sheet. She could use a sheet.
“I'm sorry I walked in, Faith. I had no idea—”
“Don't apologize,” she said as she tried to get the sheet off the bed. “I wasn't thinking. I just had to get out of—”
“Let me get you a robe, Faith. Well, you can get the robe. It's in the closet over there.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder toward another door.
She gave the sheet one last yank and it still didn't come off the bed. Tears welled in her eyes.
She looked over at Rayner again, who hadn't moved a muscle. “I'm not going to turn around until you tell me it's okay,” he said quietly.
She stood frozen in place, just staring at his back. Everything slowed for her. Her breathing became shallow, the tears stopped. She stared at the two red blotches on his back. There was a memory making its way to the surface.
She was being carried. She heard a loud noise, then a grunt and a vicious curse. It had sounded like a shot. Then another one sounded. She remembered she had been panicked, but there wasn't anything she could do with all the drugs in her body.
“He shot you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “He shot you twice.”
She watched as the muscles in his back tensed. He didn't say anything.
“Why aren't you in a hospital? How can you be up walking around?”
He didn't answer her for a moment, then he quietly said, “Faith, you're wrong. You must have dreamed it or something. It's just a couple of scratches.” He pulled up his shirt. “See? Just some cuts that haven't quite healed. I got them while grappling for training with a friend. I certainly wasn't shot.”
Faith stared at those so-called cuts and scratches. She wanted to believe him, but her instincts told her that she was right. He had been shot. Twice. And he was walking around like...like he just had some cuts and scratches. That was impossible. Maybe she had imagined it. She had been heavily drugged...
“Faith?” he said without looking over his shoulder. “Do you have the robe on yet?”
She shook her head, trying to bring herself back to reality.
Oh, yeah. She was standing in front of someone she barely knew that she thought she loved, imagining gunshots, completely naked.
She shook her head and closed her eyes. She was certainly losing her mind.
Chapter 26
Rayner stood with his back to Faith, doing everything in his power not to turn around and launch himself at her, take her to the ground, and make love to her over and over and over again. Jesus, if he had wanted to be with her before, now it was taking everything in his power to keep his feet planted to the carpet.
She was beautiful.
The image of her when he had first come into the room would be forever burned in his frontal lobe, guaranteed to deliver an erection every single time he thought about it. Her brown eyes were wide, her long hair strung out all around her body to her waist, her breasts barely covered by the red silk. Her tanned skin glowed under the lights, the soft flair of her hips...and those sweet, little red curls at the top of her sex. He had no trouble imagining her in an old picture portraying a Navajo woman. Or under him as he drove into her. Or over him as she rode him. Or...
Stop it.
The image of her would have been sheer beauty if it hadn't been for the panic on her face. It was the only thing that gave him the strength to turn around and tear his eyes from her.
When she has questioned him about the blood on his shirt, he had cringed. He hoped she would have been out cold for that nice little scene where that rat bastard Colonist was shooting at them, but apparently not. He reminded himself that the less she knew, the better off she was going to be. He couldn't risk her talking to the wrong people and getting herself in serious trouble with the government where they drained her brain. Literally.
So best to play it off the same way he was going to play off his red eyes if she asked about them. Nothing but a drug hallucination.
“Faith, there weren't any gunshots. I think that maybe...you were hallucinating because of the drugs or something.”
His words were met with silence. Did he go further? Ask her opinion on his synopsis? Or just take it for granted that it was good enough and it would be the end of the conversation. He was willing to acknowledge everything about her ordeal except for the stuff that involved him being different from humans.
Best to go with the “she'll accept your line of bullshit” theory.
“Faith?” he said. “Do you have the robe on yet?”
After a moment, he listened to her soft footsteps across the floor. A door opened. He heard the swish of silk fabric as she put on the robe, but didn't dare turn around until she told him it was okay.
“I've...I've got it on,” she said quietly.
He shut his eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath. He turned around to meet her eyes while he planted a friendly smile on his face, determined to erase the “I want to fuck you” look he knew he was sporting at that particular moment.
“So what's for breakfast?” he asked, as if he had never seen the most amazing sight of his life. He would simply never get over the way those red flames of hair cascaded over her breasts, her pink nipples peeking through...
She stood before him in the white robe that was standard in all of the rooms in the silo. It was barely better than her being naked. Barely. Her body swam in the damn thing, and the silk outlined her large, firm breasts. The robe was cinched tightly at her waist, making the flair of her hips more pronounced. It was a robe for a male as there was never supposed to be a female in the silos. Ever. But that rule had pretty much gone by the wayside when Noah had brought in Abby. Faith's hair stood out against the white background of the robe, her tan skin highlighted by it. He couldn't decide if she was prettier in the robe or naked.
But he needed to get his mind off her body and concentrate on what she wanted to eat. As well as the way she was looking at him as if she didn't believe what he had said about his scratches and cuts on his back. He sure as shit knew he was a terrible liar. He hoped he had pulled it off.
“So, what do you think, Faith? It's morning. Pancakes? Eggs? Bacon?” He hoped she said bacon.
“Ice cream with sprinkles,” she said, a smile taking the place of her scrutiny.
“Ice cream for breakfast?”
“I almost died,” she said. “From now on, when I want dessert for breakfast, I'm going to have it.”
He smiled. She reminded him so much of how he used to be so long ago when he lived on SR44. Her spirit was wild. Which just made him like her more. And that was so bad for him.
“Ice cream with sprinkles it is,” he said, offering his arm to her and wondering how in the hell he was going to explain that he lived in a missile silo.
“But first, I need to take a shower.”
Rayner had a vision of her naked under the stream of water in the shower, her nipples taunt as the water jumped off them to the floor, the gentle swell of her hips swaying as she hummed a tune. Her back was arched slightly, and she ran her hands over her hair making sure all the strands were wet. She looked at him through the steam and motioned for him to join her.
“Okay,” he croaked, hoping his jeans were holding the erection he was sporting and began heading for the door intending to wait for her outside the room. “I'll just wait—”
“You don't have to go anywhere, Rayner,” she said as she passed him on her way to the bathroom. “I'll only be a few minutes.”
The door closed and Rayner bent over, putting his hands on his knees and closing his eyes. He was certain that woman was going to be the death of him.
Chapter 27
As they stepped on the elevator, Faith looked at the buttons. Nine floors. This obviously wasn't any type of house she had ever been in.
Rayner pushed the button for floor number one. A jerk, a quick jiggle, and a smooth ride later, the doors opened into
a magnificent kitchen area. A huge man with long, black hair whistled softly to himself as he checked something in a frying pan, then stepped over to the counter and mixed something in a bowl. He quit the tune and slowly turned around when Rayner cleared his throat.
The man smiled slightly and bowed his head, never missing a stroke with the spatula in the bowl. “Hello, Faith. Welcome,” he said in a deep voice. He seemed friendly enough, but the smile never met his eyes, giving him a look similar to a wall of concrete. “My name's Hudson. I'm the chef around here. I've got bacon, pancakes, eggs, and fresh fruit for this morning. I hope that sounds good to you.”
He continued stirring, his eyes never leaving hers. She wanted to tell him about her desire for ice cream and sprinkles, but she suddenly felt intimidated. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was the robe. Maybe it was because she was in some strange place that was really, really nice, but didn’t have a window anywhere. She didn't know what it was, but she knew that she couldn't speak. She found herself taking a step back and placing most of her body behind the wall of Rayner.
“We're skipping the traditional breakfast, Hudson. Faith is looking forward to some ice cream and sprinkles,” Rayner said happily, as if he were pleased to deliver the news. “However, I'll definitely take some of that bacon. You know I love my bacon.”
Hudson's eyes flared for a moment, then he smiled. “Okay, my man. Good thing I made a bunch of it.” He turned back to the frying pan. “You know where the ice cream is, as well as the sprinkles. With that combo, let me refresh your memory on where the Pepto Bismol is kept as well,” he said as he tapped a cupboard door to his right.
Faith watched as Rayner grabbed two blue bowls off the shelf and the ice cream out of the fridge. He then went to one of the many cabinets and pulled out the sprinkles.
“Chocolate okay, Faith?”
She nodded and stood there with her arms across her chest, not sure what she should do. Should she help him? He looked like he had it under control. Instead she sat down at the small wooden table with three chairs.
She watched Rayner as he scooped the chocolate ice cream out of the container, the tendons in his arms moving beneath his skin. He brought two heaping bowls of ice cream over to the small table, along with a shaker of sprinkles.
“I didn't know how much you wanted,” he said with a smile, handing it to her.
Faith took the shaker and covered her ice cream in bits of white, blue, red, and green. Her stomach howled in approval.
“What is this place?” she asked quietly, not meeting Rayner’s eyes, and feeling a little strange to have to ask the question in the first place.
“You’re in a missile silo,” he answered.
Shocked, she searched his face for some sign that he was joking. “You’re kidding me,” she said.
Rayner stared at her. There was no hint of a smile, no teasing glint in his eyes. “No. I’m being as honest as the sun is hot. You’re in a missile silo.”
Faith thought about her surroundings for a moment. No windows, an elevator that delivered them to different floors that were circular in nature. Okay, a missile silo that had been attacked by a fabulous interior decorator, and that didn’t make any sense at all. Missile silo meant military. Or that had always been her perception.
“So this is military?”
Rayner had resumed eating his ice cream. “You could say that,” he said.
Faith looked around again. “This doesn’t look like any military base I’ve ever seen.”
Rayner shrugged. “The military is a big organization.”
Faith decided to let it drop at that point, getting the feeling that she wasn’t going to get much more information out of him. But she did like the feeling of safety that came by being in the silo.
After a moment of silence as they both ate, Rayner said, “You need to call your parents, and we need to get you home.”
Faith put down her spoon. Yes, she did need to call her parents. But her instincts were telling her that it wasn't a good time to go home. And dammit, she was going to listen to those instincts from now on. She needed to be stronger, both physically and mentally. Especially mentally. Her father was going to be just shy of impossible. He would give a new meaning to the term over-protective. He certainly wasn't going to let her out of his sight ever again, and she needed to be mentally strong to counter it. Yes, she had been through a terrible ordeal, but she couldn't be under her father's thumb for the rest of her life. She remembered her longing to hug her parents in the coffee shop when they were talking to Rayner, and that need was still there. However, her need to be stronger to face her father overrode that need.
She watched Rayner eat for a moment and then said, “I'm not ready to go home.”
“You have to, Faith.”
Rayner almost looked panicked at what she had said. Okay. Better cut the thoughts about being in love with him, because it was obvious he didn't want her around.
She remembered how desperate he had been for her not to die. And the relief she clearly saw in his face when she had come around in that cell. She had thought that maybe, just maybe, there might be a mutual attraction between them.
Obviously not.
Having almost died, she needed to think about things. She needed to process what had happened to her, and she needed some space in order to do it. If she went home now, she knew that she wouldn’t get the space she needed.
“Look,” she said, “I know I'm imposing on you and I'm sorry. I just can't go home yet, though. Not yet.”
He looked at her like she had just told him she was from another planet.
“Faith—”
“Rayner, I can't. My dad will never let me out of his sight again. I'll never be allowed to go anywhere. He'll practically lock me up and throw away the key! He’ll smother me! He never wanted me to leave Flagstaff, and if I go back now, he won't let me leave. I need to be stronger so I can...try to talk some reason into him. If I go home now, I'll just do what he says and regret it later. Please. Just a couple of days. I..I need to process what happened to me. I need time to get over my fear. Please, Rayner.”
***
"Please, Rayner…" He felt the desperation from across the small table. How could he say no to that face? She was practically begging him.
But he had made a promise to Chevey. He had promised he would get her back home as soon as possible.
Shit.
He couldn't deny Faith, though. And if he was going to save himself, he had to put some distance between them. There were nine floors in the silo, seven being sleeping quarters. With three Warriors, that left three floors he could put her on.
Would that be enough distance? He would have to make due with that.
“How long are you thinking, Faith?”
“Just a couple of days. Please, Rayner.”
He could possibly keep everyone happy. Faith could have some time to gather herself to stand up to her father. Her father would be happy knowing she was safe and sound. And Rayner...well, he would just have to deal and try to hold it together.
Besides, she could also give them some information on the Colonist.
Distance. He could put distance between them even if they were under the same roof. He would talk to Cohen about being a buffer between him and Faith. He had to remain strong to let her go. It could save both of their lives.
And what about the fact that his eyes, as well as Cohen's and Hudson's, lit up once the sun went down? They would have to make sure they all wore their special contacts to combat the glow.
Rayner glanced over at Hudson, who was watching the exchange between him and Faith. He nodded his head slightly at Rayner, as if to say that it was okay if she moved in for a couple of days.
“All right,” Rayner said quietly, looking back at Faith.
She beamed at him.
“But after you’re done with the ice cream, you need to call your dad.”
She nodded.
“And you'll need to tell us about...what happened to
you.”
He glanced back at Hudson, who had a satisfied smile on his puss, and gave Rayner a little wiggle of his eyebrows.
What the hell was that about?
Chapter 28
“I think you'll be comfortable in here,” Rayner said as the elevator landed on the fourth floor of the silo. “I'm just one floor down. You can have your own space. And there's a phone you can use by the bed.”
She followed him into the room. Done in different shades of green, it reminded her of plants and trees. It was nice and relaxing. She looked around at the huge T.V. mounted on the wall, the dark green carpet, the light green comforter. Yes, it was pretty, but she preferred the black and browns of Rayner's room.
She spun around the room, her arms crossed over her chest. She listened as Rayner told her his number in case she needed anything, and he also wrote down the phone extensions to everyone in the house and every room. Kitchen. Living room. Something called the War Room.
“Make sure you call your dad. First thing. I promised him you would,” Rayner said. “And remember, anything you need, just call.” He began making his way to the door.
“Will you please stay here with me while I call my dad?” she asked quietly, not meeting his eyes. She felt the need for moral support because she knew this phone call was going to be a tough one, and frankly she didn't want to be left alone.
After a moment of hesitation, he said, “Of course. If that's what you want.”
She nodded and headed for the bed. She sighed as she sat down, eyeing the phone. “He's not going to be happy that I'm not coming home.”
Rayner pulled over the overstuffed chair and sat down. She looked at him and felt an ache in her heart and her belly. Heartbreak and desire. If he had any feelings toward her, he never would have moved her down to this room. He would have wanted her to stay with him in his room. Her eyes traced his strong jaw and the blond stubble that lined it. His dark eyes were on her, expectant. His foot jiggled as if he were in a hurry and impatient for her to make the call.
