by Sydney Croft
As always, Ender never got farther into the nightmare than hearing the plane crash, never relieved the part where he’d dragged Dev, kicking and screaming, from the burning C-130.
Instead, he woke up drenched, screaming and shaking, standing in the corner of his basement, holding an M16 pointed into the darkness. Ready to kill.
With trembling fingers, he checked to make sure he hadn’t fired any rounds, discovered that he hadn’t even loaded the gun. He could lock and load in his sleep, but thankfully he hadn’t taken his training that far.
He sank to the floor, back to the stone basement wall, ran his hands through his hair and wondered when this would stop.
His chest tightened. He needed to get out of here, go running, burn off all this worry and tension. But his legs were still shaking, and his body wasn’t functioning well. This kind of physical weakness had never happened to him, and before he’d gone to bed he’d tried to force down some steak he’d bought on the way home from the hospital.
Every bite made him think of Kira. The woman pregnant with his child, who expected them to make a life together and be one big, happy, special-ability-type family.
How was he supposed to keep them safe when he was sleepwalking with guns, when he was the danger? Hi, kiddo, don’t worry—Daddy’s a killer, but he won’t hurt you.
No, he couldn’t be sure of anything. He had the nightmares for a reason—to remind him that he was, and always would be, better off alone.
THE MOMENT TOM ENTERED KIRA’S ROOM in the morning, she flew into his arms. She must have caught him by surprise, because he rocked back as though she was too heavy.
“Sorry,” she said, as she wrapped herself around him. “I’m a little excited to see you.”
He held her tight, like he didn’t want to let go. She knew the feeling. “Tom?”
“Hmm?”
His hands stroked her back through the scrubs she’d been given to wear home, and she sighed against his neck. “I know you’re worried about all of this, but you’re going to be an awesome dad.”
His body went so taut she could be hugging a board. She backed out of his arms. “You look terrible. I told you something was wrong, that you were getting sick. You should see that doctor I bit.” When she felt his forehead for fever, he gently grasped her wrist and moved it away.
“Kira, we need to talk.”
“Okay. But let’s do it at home.” She grinned like an idiot, because she finally had a home, for the first time in her life.
He took her hand and led her out of the clinic and into the cloud-filtered sunlight, his tense silence breaking her mood a little. Obviously, whatever he wanted to talk about was important, and as they walked along the sidewalk toward the little duck pond, she couldn’t take the quiet anymore.
“Dr. Lavery said Luke arrived last night. She put him on an IV, and Zach talked to him, got him to eat a little. So it looks like he’ll pull through. I can’t thank you enough, Tommy. The rest of the animals will be here in the next couple of days.”
“That’s great.”
The odd tone of his voice sent a low-level buzz of worry through her, and then she noticed where they were heading—or, more important, where they weren’t heading. “Why are we walking away from the parking lot?”
“Because,” he said, staring straight ahead, “I’m not taking you to my house. I’m taking you to an apartment on base.”
“But I don’t need to be near the clinic.”
“I’ll explain when we get there.”
She planted her feet on the ground and her fists on her hips. “No, you’ll explain now. Why are we going to be staying in an apartment?”
He stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Kira—”
“Now.”
He cursed, but it was a soft, pleading sound, so unlike his usual harsh invective, which worried her even more. “I really think it would be best to do this in private.”
“Do what?” A shroud of dread settled over her. “You don’t plan to stay there with me, do you?”
“No. You’ll only be there until a house on base is set up the way you want it. A nursery and furniture…a place for your animals.” She didn’t have time to think or react, because he swung around to her, his eyes red-rimmed, and she didn’t know if they’d been that way since he arrived and she hadn’t noticed, or if it had just happened. “I can’t do this, Kira. I’m not cut out to be a family man. I’m sorry.”
She recoiled, unable to process what he’d said. This had to be a joke. Except the tension in his body, his face, told her he was dead serious. “But you said—”
“I know what I said. I was wrong. I’ll make sure you have everything you and the baby need.”
“We need you.” Her voice was so full of tremors that she barely understood her own words. “Why are you doing this?”
“For you. For your own good.”
“What? Are you kidding me? That’s bullshit, and you know it. We’re good together. I’m happy for the first time in my life. So how is dumping me like an unwanted dog for my own good? It’s not.” No, there was something else going on here, and she was going to find out what. She marched up to him and poked him hard in the chest. “I want answers. The truth. Do you think this baby isn’t yours?”
“God, no. And even if it wasn’t…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t raise a kid. I’m a killer, Kira. Not good father material.”
Relief flooded her, a heady sensation when mixed with the fear-based adrenaline that had juiced up her body. “Are we back to that again? You’re a good man, Tommy. You do what you have to do to protect people and defend yourself. I’m fine with that.” She grabbed his hand to lead him toward the parking lot. “Now let’s go home.”
He didn’t budge, forcing her to turn back to him. He kept hold of her hand, gripping tight. “No. Listen to me. My job is more than bringing people like you in to ACRO. Sometimes my missions are based on my speed and shooting skills.”
Goose bumps prickled her flesh. “So…What? Are you saying you’re an assassin?”
“Something like that.”
A breeze ruffled his hair, drawing her thoughts to how many times she’d run her fingers through it, how his breath would catch, almost imperceptibly, when she did so. Little things like that had made her fall for him, and she wasn’t about to give up now.
“Well,” she said, lifting her chin in resolve, “I don’t know how I feel about that, but we can work it all out at home. I’m sure the people you’re sent to, um, take care of, are horrible people.”
“Dammit, Kira! Stop making excuses for me. I’m not a good person, and the people I have to take care of aren’t always the devil incarnate.” He released her. “I almost killed you, okay? Do you get it now?”
Geez, he had serious guilt issues. Which only proved her point about him being a good person. “You didn’t almost kill me. If you hadn’t gone after those men in the woods, they would have killed you and done God knows what with me. It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t get to me right away when I needed sex. In the end, you saved me.”
“I’m talking about my orders. They were to bring you back here,” he said. “Or kill you if you refused.”
Her stunned silence was broken only by the blood pounding in her ears.
If you don’t leave with me, you’re going to be killed. And that’s something I can promise you will happen.
The words he’d spoken back at the refuge the night she’d attacked him for sex roared through her head. He hadn’t been talking about Itor. He’d been talking about himself. Itor had never planned to kill her, and he’d known it even then.
But she had refused to leave with him—and he hadn’t killed her. They’d been talking at the tiger enclosure after they’d made love. He’d stood there, his hand over the bulge in his bag pocket.
The same pocket where he’d kept his gun.
Her heart careened to a stop with such violence that it must have left skid marks on the inside of her rib ca
ge.
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “Oh, my God…that night at the big cat pens.” Her gut clenched, and trembles wracked her body. “Were you…were you really going to kill me?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head so hard, her hair whipped at her eyes, stinging them. “You’re lying. I know you are. You wouldn’t—couldn’t—do that to me.”
“The animals knew,” he said hoarsely, and she remembered how they’d tried to warn her, how they’d sensed danger. Her gaze snapped to his, to the cold, hard truth in the depths of his eyes.
The ground dropped out from beneath her, leaving her swaying in a vertigo spin. Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod.
“Kira—” He reached for her.
She stumbled backward. “Don’t touch me,” she whispered.
He held his hands up as if in surrender and stayed rooted to his spot. His chest rose and fell in great, shuddering swells, and he looked flushed, feverish, and it struck her that he had no right to be as miserable as she was.
Silence stretched. “So that’s it,” she said finally, with a calm she didn’t feel. “Nice knowing you, nice knocking you up, but you’re better off without me, and, oh, by the way, I was going to kill you?”
“I’m so sorry.” The way he said it, like he truly felt regret, lit her fuse. How dare he lie like that? If he were telling the truth, he’d be trying to convince her he loved her, that he wouldn’t really have killed her, not throwing her away like garbage.
“You’re sorry?” Her voice was reedy, shaky, and she hated herself for it. “You’re sorry that you were going to shoot me and my baby?” She pressed her hands to her belly, because although she hadn’t been pregnant at the time—at least, she didn’t think so, but Dr. Lavery hadn’t determined that yet—she was now, and the thought that her child would never have had a chance to grow inside her…
“You’re upset—”
“No shit. Tell me, Ender, when you were inside me, were you thinking about killing me? What were you going to do with my body? Feed me to the tigers to get rid of the evidence? Bury me with Derek?” The harsh reality swirled in the watery depths of his eyes, and she backed up another step, the backs of her knees striking a park bench. “My God,” she croaked, “you’re a monster.”
His throat worked hard on a swallow, and she expected him to try to talk his way out of her accusation, but all he finally said was “Yes.”
“That’s it? Yes? You planned to murder me while you were coming inside me and all I get is a yes? You son of a bitch. You fucking son of a bitch!”
She lunged. Her palm connected with his face hard enough to knock his head around. With his reflexes, he could have stopped her, but he hadn’t. He didn’t look at her either.
Hand and eyes stinging, she shoved him. “Get away from me. Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again.”
“That’s probably for the best. But for what it’s worth, you’re safe now. No one will ever hurt you again.” His voice cracked, and as he walked toward the clinic, so did her heart.
“No one but you,” she whispered.
Oh, God, how could this have happened? Sobs stole her breath and tears blurred her vision. Now what? She wasn’t stupid enough to think the ACRO people would just let her waltz off the compound; they were no doubt watching her right now. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and her instincts told her to go to ground. After that, she had no idea. She couldn’t think about the future or what to do even in the next thirty seconds, because all she wanted to do right now was cry.
ENDER STOOD INSIDE THE INFIRMARY, gazing blankly out the window at the park where he’d left Kira. He could go after her, pull her to him, force her to try to understand. But there was no point to that when the fact remained the same—he was a trained killer, not meant to be a father or a husband, and he’d come to terms with that long before the animal whisperer had walked into this life.
Being shot didn’t hurt half as much as having his heart voluntarily ripped out of his chest.
“Ender?”
He turned abruptly, and Annika put her hands up in fight position, ready to shock him if he touched her. He didn’t. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at her.
“Dev knows I’m here,” she started after he didn’t say anything. She still kept her hands poised and ready for attack. “He said Kira went into hiding and won’t come out.”
“She’s over there.” He motioned toward the row of bushes across from the medical building he’d watched her run off to.
“Ender, I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt her—”
“I know that,” he said fiercely. “I didn’t mean to either.”
“Okay.” She put her hands down. “We’ve made arrangements for her to stay with Haley and Remy. I’m going to get her.”
“Don’t corner her, Annika,” he said, hating the desperate quality his voice held. “She’ll go feral, run or fight if you corner her, and with the baby…”
“I’ll be really careful. I promise,” she said.
He thought about the promises he’d made to Kira. Made and broken—for her own good. His too, probably.
He turned and walked away, to head back to the emptiness he knew his house would now hold, before he lost his willpower.
ANNIKA WOULD HAVE KNOWN where to find Kira even if Ender hadn’t pointed her out.
With the exception of three security guys sent to watch over Kira, the little park was free of people, but ahead, rabbits and squirrels collected around a bush, a woman huddled inside, knees drawn up to her chest. As Annika approached, the creatures scattered.
“Kira?” Annika crouched on her heels and peered into the foliage made darker by the thin morning cloud cover. “It’s Annika.”
Kira burrowed deeper into the brush, and Annika wondered what she’d been thinking when she’d gone to Dev and begged him to let her try to talk Kira out after several nurses, a psychologist, and a Convincer had failed. Annika had only wanted to try to make up for what she’d done, but it was probably a huge mistake. Annika was, no doubt, the last—well, the second to last—person on earth Kira wanted to see. Everyone said that Kira didn’t blame her, but deep down, how could she not?
“I’m not going to hurt you. But we’ve got to get you out of there and away from ACRO.”
“Away?” Kira’s thin voice dripped with desperation and hope, and Annika knew she’d struck on the way to get her out of there.
“Yes. I’ll take you to a friend’s house, and I promise, no one will come near you if you don’t want to see them.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“I know. But isn’t it better to take a chance on me than to sit under this bush until you starve?” Or until the vet showed up with a tranquilizer.
She felt ridiculous talking to the shrub, but after a few moments of silence, Annika sighed. She so wasn’t good at this touchy-feely crap. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened when you got here. I’m normally more in control than that. I’ve just been stressed lately…” She trailed off, because Kira didn’t give a shit about her problems with Creed, and Annika didn’t want to talk about it anyway. No man was going to turn her into a blithering idiot.
Finally Kira peeked out from between some branches. “You’ll really take me away from here?”
“Yeah.”
Kira bit her lip, considering, and then she crawled out of the bush, her scrubs smeared with dirt, twigs and leaves tangled in her hair. “I don’t want to see…anyone.”
Anyone, meaning Ender. Annika chose not to bring up his name as she led Kira toward the parking lot. The way Kira seemed to look everywhere at once, sometimes stopping suddenly and sniffing the air, reminded Annika of a skittish stray cat.
“We won’t see anyone but Haley and Remy. Haley’s a parameteorologist at ACRO, and Remy is a special operative like En—uh, me. Haley’s totally starched, but for a scientist, she’s cool. Remy’s probably the only person on the planet besides Dev who can stand En—” Crap. She cleared her
throat. “Anyway, you’ll like them. Nice house.” A house where Dev had sent a crack security team to keep Kira safe from intruders—but more likely to prevent her from sneaking away.
“I hope he’s the understanding type, because I haven’t been behaving well around men lately.”
Annika fished her keys out of her BDU leg pocket as they approached her Jeep. “Dev mentioned that.” Don’t let Remy near her. She bites. “Don’t worry. They’ve been briefed. Remy’ll keep his distance. Haley’s a workaholic, so she’ll give you plenty of space as well.”
Everyone had been briefed on Kira’s issues, and Ender’s warnings had hammered them home. He’d looked like hell, had sounded worse.
Annika had never been his biggest fan—oh, hell, who was she kidding, she couldn’t stand him—but she respected his Special Forces expertise and combat skills, and if she had to partner-up for a mission, he was always a good one to have at your back. She even identified with his arrogance and I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude that kept everyone away and lent an image of invulnerability. Which was why it had been a shock to see him like he was today, pacing, intense worry creating dark circles around his bloodshot eyes.
Vulnerable.
Seeing him like that made her break out in an itchy sweat, because if he could be brought to his knees, anyone could.
Yet another reason that getting close to Creed couldn’t happen, and why she couldn’t give him the commitment he’d asked for.
Annika eyed Kira as she settled into the front passenger seat of her old green Wrangler. Annika had seen some of Ender’s women, and Kira didn’t fit the profile. He’d always done the tall, gorgeous, bubbleheaded blondes. Kira, with her dark hair and petite frame, didn’t strike her as his type, and while she wasn’t a classic beauty, her exotic features and full lips gave her a sleepy kind of sensuality that seemed too subtle for someone as hard as Ender to notice.
What struck Annika the most, though, was Kira’s inherent air of innocence. She hadn’t believed people like that existed. Certainly, they didn’t exist in her world. Maybe Ender had gotten wrapped up in the need to protect Kira, but who would protect her from him? Annika couldn’t imagine that Ender was all that gentle with her.
