Worlds Collide: Sunset Rising, Book Two

by McEachern, S. M.

  He drew his eyebrows together. “Why?”

  “Just sit.”

  He gave me a dubious look, but did as I asked. When he was positioned in front of me, I dug my fingers into the tense muscles of his shoulders, working my way up his neck, then back down again. I remembered how much it calmed him in the Pit. After a few minutes of assaulting his muscles, I felt them begin to relax. Oddly, I felt my own anxiety ease with his.

  He picked up his scotch from the table and took a sip.

  “I didn’t know you liked to drink.”

  “There wasn’t any scotch in the Pit.”

  Leaning against him, I took the drink out of his hand and sniffed it. Gagging, I passed it back. “I liked it better when you worked out to relieve stress.”

  He set the drink back on the table. “Maybe we should.”

  “Should what?”

  “Work out. Train. Anything to work off some of this anger.” Jack stood and held his hand out to me. I took it and he pulled me up. We moved the low table out of the way. “Remember how to do the warm-up?” He backed up a few steps to give us more space and began with T’ai Chi.

  Watching his slow deliberate movements, I copied them. “It wasn’t that long ago.”

  “Still, I’ll go easy on you. I wouldn’t want to overwork you after you raked poop all day.”

  “Not to mention cooking and serving you all night,” I said with a smile.

  He stood straight, raised a leg, and stepped back, then crouched bringing his arms back. I followed.

  “Cooking? Is that what you call it?”

  “Okay, maybe the pan was a little too hot.” My burned fingers had stopped stinging, although the skin felt leathery.

  Slowly he brought his leg forward, still bent at the knee, and unfurled it into a high kick. I followed, feeling the stretch of my sore muscles. I began to relax.

  Jack’s expression sobered. “I’m sorry for the way things have to be out here.”

  “It’s not your fault.” I stretched my leg forward, balanced, and then brought it back to stand upright. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “You know you can.”

  Even though I wasn’t sure I was going to like the answer, I wanted to know anyway. “Is Hayley the girlfriend you talked about?”

  Jack’s face broke into a grin as he went into another crouch and circled one leg behind him, slowly passing one hand over the other and sweeping it in an upward movement. His muscles rippled with the control of his movements.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be jealous, would you Mrs. Kenner?”

  I shook my head. “No. Just curious.” Even I could hear the lie in my voice.

  “No, she’s not. Well, I guess I should be honest about her too, in case she corners me and wants to talk. We might have had…relations.”

  “Might have or did?” I managed to keep a blank expression as jealousy reared up again.

  “There’s a hazing ritual for high school freshmen at the Academy. We go into the hangar wearing bulletproof vests, split into two teams, and hunt each other,” Jack explained. I bit my lips to keep from smiling. Doc told me about the ritual. Morons I remembered he called them. “Hayley was on my team and she cornered me behind a tank and…started making out with me.”

  “And you didn’t turn her down.”

  His cheeks flushed red and I knew it wasn’t because of the exercise. “I was sixteen. Of course I didn’t turn her down.” He shook his head as if it were wrong to think otherwise. “Not that we went all the way or anything.”

  “She seems to still care for you.” I eyed him to see his reaction.

  He shrugged. “She only liked me then because I was the top student in combat training and the one to beat. She only likes me now because she thinks I’m the heir.” He turned to face me. “All warmed up?”

  “I guess so.”

  “That doesn’t sound enthusiastic. Come on.” He flicked his hand at me, grazing my arm. “Show me no mercy.”

  “I’ll try, but I suck at this, remember?” I put up my dukes. He laughed at my pathetic attempt.

  “Tell you what,” he said, walking around, shutting off the lights. “I’ll give you the advantage.”

  The twilight of the setting sun poured in through the windows. I rolled my eyes in a droll expression. If he couldn’t see, he really was blind.

  I studied him for a moment, pondering which way I should come at him. I stepped toward him and started to throw my left fist at him but followed through with my right instead. He grabbed my right fist and twisted my arm, making me bend forward to ease the pain it inflicted. He let me go.

  “So you want to play rough?” I said, rubbing my arm.

  “No mercy.”

  I decided to fake a roundhouse kick to his side and as I saw his arm begin to block my kick, I dropped my foot to the floor and leaned forward on it to deliver a punch to his face. Always ready, he snatched my hand before it could make contact and in one swift movement, he spun me around and pinned my arm behind me, right against my bruise.

  My body arched reflexively against the sudden pain and I snapped my head backward, slamming into something.

  “My nose!” He stumbled away from me, cupping a hand over his face. “I think you broke it.”

  The pain in my side was throbbing. “I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I didn’t mean it.”

  A bit of blood oozed out from between his fingers. Ignoring my own pain, I ran to the kitchen for a cloth.

  “Let me see.” I peeled his hand away from his nose. Using the cloth, I mopped up the blood.

  “Be careful, it hurts.”

  “Stop being a baby.”

  “Easy for you to say. You don’t have a broken nose.”

  “Your nose isn’t broken. Sit down and put your head back.” I guided him to the sofa and gently pushed his head back against the rest. He winced when I applied a bit of pressure.

  “What happened? Did I hurt you?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “The bruise on my side is still a little tender.”

  As I leaned over him, a few strands of my hair fell forward onto his cheek. His hand came up and smoothed them back behind my ear, his blue eyes never leaving my face.

  “I forgot about your injury. Sorry.” He dropped his hand away from my hair, trailing his fingers down my arm. Goosebumps sprang up and my breath caught at his touch. I cleared my throat in an effort to conceal it.

  “So tomorrow…I guess we have to start saving the world?” I asked dramatically.

  “Mmmhmm. Do you have a plan?”

  I looked at him in surprise. “No. I was hoping you had one.”

  “I do.”

  “Are you going to share it?” I lifted the cloth and examined his nose for blood. A thin rivulet escaped. I replaced it.

  “Last night Powell said the comms went out around the time of the wedding, so I think—and I’m guessing here—that Holt shut down communications from inside.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because once I escaped, I became a wild card. He knows I’m capable of tapping into the system.”

  “But you told me you tapped into the system before, when you were looking for the codes to the warheads. You didn’t find out about this city then.”

  “There’s one place I haven’t looked because I don’t have access—Holt’s personal computer. It’s located in his suites and I would have to get past security to access it.”

  “If it’s under guard, why would he need to shut it down?”

  He raised his brows in question. “Just in case I could get past his security? Or maybe he’s just being overly cautious. As I said, I’m gu
essing.”

  His fingertips returned to their exploration of my arm. Breathing was becoming difficult. I was beginning to rethink the no-romance policy. “What’s your plan, then?”

  “Even though I’m pretty sure I know why comms are down, I’ll keep searching in case I’m wrong. The city is linked with the Dome through a fiber optic cable system buried underground. I sent out an order today to have the cable dug up and checked from end to end for any breaks. The cable’s enclosed in an armored casing, so I doubt we’ll find anything.”

  “If it’s linked to the Dome, then wouldn’t there be miles and miles of cable?”

  Jack nodded.

  “That’s going to take forever.”

  “Exactly. It’s a stall tactic. I need to look like I’m doing something to fix the problem.” His fingers trailed back up my arm and along my neck, pushing my curtain of hair behind my shoulder. “In the meantime, I can find out how to turn off the tagging system and you spread the word for them to be prepared for when that happens. At least we can try to free everyone out here.”

  I needed him to stop sending shivers down my back or the no-romance policy was going right out the window.

  “Bring your head up,” I instructed. He sat up straight, bringing his head so close I felt the tickle of his breath on my neck. I steeled myself against the thrill it sent through me. “I think it’s stopped.” I stood up, putting a little distance between us.

  “My turn to play nursemaid. Let’s see your side.”

  “It’s fine. It’s just a little tender.”

  “Come on in the bathroom. I can’t see out here.”

  Taking my hand, he stood and dragged me with him. I went reluctantly, feeling a little awkward about him caring for me. He turned on the bathroom light and we both had to shut our eyes against the glare. Then he was tugging at my t-shirt, pulling it up to see my bruise. I leaned against the vanity as he squatted to get a better look. I felt ridiculous.

  “That’s bad, Sunny. Maybe you broke a rib.”

  “No, I didn’t. A broken rib hurts way worse than this.”

  He cast a glance at my reflection in the mirror. “Do I want to know how you know that?”

  I shook my head.

  He went back to his examination. “Did Doc look at it?”

  “Yeah. He said it was nothing to worry about.”

  Jack traced an outline of the bruise with the tip of his finger and my back arched in response. As I watched his reflection in the mirror, he leaned his head closer to my back. I wasn’t sure which registered first—seeing him kiss me or feeling his lips on my bare skin. My ragged inhale was audible in the quiet bathroom.

  Jack’s eyes flashed to my reflection. “Did that hurt?”

  I shook my head, not trusting my voice. It took all of my concentration just to breathe. I needed to break this up or I knew where we were headed—to the bedroom.

  He stood and wrapped his arms around my waist, easing me back against his chest. His eyes never left my reflection.

  “I know we agreed we’re better off as strictly partners, but…I missed you last night.”

  His honesty surprised me almost as much as his vulnerable expression. I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on him. My heart beat a little faster in this moment of truth. The urge to turn around within the circle of his embrace and face him was overwhelming. But if I did, where would it lead? Would my heart be free to do what was best for the Pit, not just for me? The stab of jealousy I felt towards Hayley, the humiliation I endured at playing his slave, the outrage that consumed me when I discovered his role in the sterilization program—all those feelings robbed me of my ability to think clearly.

  I held his gaze in the mirror. “I missed you too, but maybe if things were different.”

  “Does that mean we can’t even…” He paused mid-sentence, his cheeks turning pink. “Cuddle?”

  My next breath came out as a laugh. Did the Jack Kenner just ask me to cuddle? The soft word was at complete odds with the hard, muscular arms wrapped around me.

  A smile lit up my face. “Awwww, Jack. You mean you like it when I snuggle you at night?”

  His cheeks flushed red. Oddly, I was enjoying this. “Of course I like it. You’re so soft and gorgeous.” It was my turn to blush. I opened my mouth to reply—to tell him although I was flattered, it still wasn’t a good idea—but he held up his hand to stop me. “Wait a minute. You didn’t let me finish. I was also going to say that it wouldn’t be a romantic thing, it would be more of a therapeutic thing.”

  “Therapeutic?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  I raised my eyebrows at his reflection, waiting to hear his definition. He looked back at me. “That’s it? Just therapeutic?”

  “You need more?”

  I laughed, relieved to have the tension of a few moments ago replaced with our normal easy banter. Pushing out of the circle of his arms, I took his hand, shut off the light and led him into the bedroom. “Come on. Let’s go have a therapeutic cuddle.” How did he talk me into this?

  I didn’t need to see him to know he was smiling. As we approached the bed, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me down onto the bed with him. “I promise, no romantic stuff.”

  Snuggling in closer, I savored the feel of his hard chest beneath my hand. “Strictly therapeutic,” I said, more for my benefit than his.

  For a few moments, the only sounds that mingled with the silence were the beating of our hearts and contented breaths.

  “You still think of me as one of them, don’t you?” he asked.

  I pulled my head back to look at him. He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Despite his stoic expression, the increased beat of his heart told me my answer was important.

  Wishing I had an easy answer, I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against his neck. I breathed deeply, hoping to clear my thoughts, and the scent of him filled me. I hated the bourge, but there was no way I hated Jack. What he was doing for the Pit spoke greater volumes than anything he had done as the heir. He was the greatest person I had ever known.

  “No. Not anymore.” My hand travelled from his chest to touch his lips. The words “I love you” hovered on my tongue…but I wouldn’t let them spill out.

  Chapter Ten

  The sun beamed down on the open-topped jeep. The temperature was significantly warmer than it had been since I had left the Dome. I looked at Gaia out of the corner of my eye. A sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. She didn’t really acknowledge my presence. I wondered if that was just her natural disposition or if it was directed at me.

  Turning away from my sour companion, I allowed myself the luxury of enjoying the scenery. Today my confidence outweighed my anxiety. I didn’t know that a night spent in the arms of someone who truly cared about me was the foundation for inner strength. I was actually looking forward to driving the tractor and seeing Opal and the other ladies. Maybe I would broach the subject of escaping the corral…although I wanted to feel them out a little more first. As I knew only too well, blind trust could get me into trouble.

  The corral was bustling with activity as we pulled in through the gates. One truck full of workers left and was quickly replaced by another. A queue formed for the empty vehicle and I got out of the jeep and started toward it.

  “Where are you going?” a voice boomed out. I turned to find Hazel and another woman.

  “To work,” I said, pointing toward the truck.

  She shook her head. “Come on back. Today you get to learn how to be a real princess.”

  I eyed the truck. It was filling up fast. Soon there wouldn’t be any room. “I’m sure if you check it out, you’ll find that Mr. Kenner has given me permission to work on the farm.”

>   Hazel took a few steps toward me, placing a hand on her side protectively. It was hard not to miss the grimace of pain on her face. It drew attention to the bruise peeking out from under her glasses.

  She stopped a few steps away from me. “I have very strict orders regarding you.”

  That she had been disciplined was obvious. My stomach clenched in response to the knowledge. In the Pit, it was an unspoken rule never to comment on someone’s bruises. They were just the visible marks. Eyes couldn’t see the real scars left behind by being stripped of all pride—the kind of humiliation that came from being defenseless and weak. I wanted to apologize for being the cause, but knew I had to respect her dignity.

  “Okay.”

  Gaia was standing by herself, the jeep gone. Hazel led me back to her and motioned for us to follow. “The general has requested that Sunny be trained in the kitchen. Gaia, you’ll be the one training her.”

  She took us to a building that looked much the same as all the others in this compound, except there was more traffic going in and out of it.

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  “The services building. The kitchen and cafeteria are on this side,” she said as she opened a door for us. Pointing to the other end of the long, narrow building, she said, “And that side is the laundry room. The only food we cook here is for our own consumption, but we do the laundry for the bourge.”

  She walked us through the busiest section of the kitchen where several workers were prepping food. A wave of familiarity washed over me. How many days had Summer and I spent peeling vegetables in a kitchen almost exactly like this one? The thought of her sent a pang of unhappiness through me. I wished she were with me right now.

  “Work on the stove first,” Hazel continued. “After they’re done with the food prep, they’ll need to start cooking lunch. It’s important you respect the cooks and stay out of their way.” She stopped by a stove. “Any questions?”

  Gaia didn’t respond. “Nope,” I said.

  Hazel gave us a satisfied nod and left. As I watched her go, I saw her hand come up to protect her side.