The Green Fields Series Box Set: Books 1-3

by Adrienne Lecter

  “Is that even true?” he offered.

  “Oh, it's true, but it's not why I did it.” Pausing, I tried to make sense of my scrambled thoughts, but calmness didn't necessarily help with that. Looking away from him, I tried to find the right words, but they simply wouldn't come.

  “You were right. Every fucking thing you said about me was true. If Raleigh had offered me a piece of that cake, I would have eaten it with gusto, and not cared for more than a few days about the moral implications. That's why I did it. If there's no virus, there's no possibility that I will ever be tempted to mess around with it. Laugh at me if you wish, but that's why I did it.”

  He studied me for a moment, then shook his head.

  “I don't think that's the truth.”

  “What, you don't believe me?”

  He snorted. “You're not lying. You might even think that's why you did it, on some level, but that's not the driving force behind your actions. Or rather, why you stopped letting everyone push you around and finally did what you wanted to do.”

  “Huh.” Skeptical as I tried to sound, his words resonated with something deep inside of me and brought with it a new wave of emotion. “I'm so sick of all this shit,” I muttered, letting my head fall back against the wall behind me. Staring at the ceiling wasn't very enlightening, so I caught his gaze as I went on instead. “I'm so sick of being taken for granted. So sick of being ignored. There's no one out there in the entire fucking world who even knows who I am, who knows what I want or what motivates me, what gets to me.”

  No one but him.

  I wasn't sure if that epiphany made me want to smile or cry, but I knew that, either way, I was screwed.

  That didn't stop me from pushing myself away from the wall, and it didn't make my steps falter as I crossed the room. The entire time I held his gaze, didn't even try to look away or act coy. There was no need for that, and I doubted that as raw as I felt right then, I could have mimed the seductress.

  There were a million reasons why I should have stayed on my side of the room, showered, gotten dressed. I was injured, maybe even infected with one of the most gruesome viruses in existence. He was directly responsible for all the shit that had happened to me that had led to those injuries, or had done nothing to prevent them from happening. He hadn't contradicted me once when I ticked off his shortcomings as a decent human being. I wasn't even sure if I liked him, on whatever fucked up level.

  None of that mattered.

  I did what I did because I chose to—I wanted to—and that was enough.

  My breath caught in my throat as I stopped right in front of him, my neck craned slightly to keep eye contact. I was close enough to feel the heat coming off his body, close enough that when I blew out my breath, it stirred an errant strand of hair below his ear. I had to hand it to him, he'd given up taunting me with that grin of his, and what I saw in his eyes was enough to make me forget all those million reasons I'd chosen to ignore.

  He saw me.

  Me, with all my faults, shortcomings, the mistakes I'd made; all my strengths, my integrity; he saw it, accepted it, wanted it.

  “Ah, fuck this,” I muttered when I felt my heartbeat start to race. “No. Fuck me.”

  Reaching up, I threaded the fingers of my still aching hand through his hair and pulled his head down so I could kiss his lips. He responded immediately, his arms coming around me, pulling me close, his mouth eagerly opening to mine. Throwing all pretense of decency overboard, I moaned, pulling myself even harder against him with my free arm wrapping around his lower back.

  From there on it was all primal need, no holding back, no tenderness, but every touch made me yearn for more. My shoulder smacked into the wall when he flipped us over, which I rewarded with a sharp rake of my nails down his back. He let out a most delicious groan and nipped my bottom lip before pulling his head back far enough to catch my gaze. His eyes held challenge, but I bet, so did mine.

  Reaching down between us, I wrapped my hand around his cock and started stroking him, intent on not looking away. He rewarded me with a fucking sexy grin before he leaned in so he could kiss and bite down on the soft skin at the side of my neck. I couldn't help laughing when he hit a ticklish spot, which he seemed to like, judging from how he thrust into my hand.

  Already feeling great but definitely needing more, I shifted my balance to my right side so I could hitch up my left leg. He caught on quickly and moved one hand under my thigh to support me. I squeezed a little harder, then leaned back more firmly into the wall, bracing myself. My breath caught in my throat when I felt his cock rub over my clit, then slide lower to almost where I needed him to be. He moved in to kiss me again, deep and demanding, but suddenly stopped with a wide grin on his face.

  I frowned right back. “What? You haven’t forgotten how this works, right?”

  Still grinning as he held my gaze, he plucked my hand from around him and dropped it on his shoulder instead.

  “I just realized I never even took you out to dinner first.”

  Unable to remain serious, I cracked a smile myself.

  “So raiding vending machines together is not your idea of—”

  Whatever snide comeback I'd planned on delivering I lost when he thrust forward, sheathing himself inside of me. I tensed, then relaxed, and didn't give a shit whether he laughed at my moan or not.

  “Shut up,” he whispered into my mouth, then followed up with his tongue, and things got a lot more frantic and raw.

  I didn't hold back, didn't even think for a moment how I must look or sound as I moved against him, needing more, exploring, reacquainting, taking. He gave as good as he got, and before long had me forget about the ice cold wall behind me or the water droplets falling off me. With his lips stifling my shout, I came hard around him, which whipped him into even more of a frenzy. It didn't take him much longer to reach his own climax.

  For a few seconds, our ragged panting was the only sound in the room, then he reached over to the faucet to my left and turned on the water. I made a face as the spray stung my eyes, but before I could complain, he silenced me with a last, almost tender kiss.

  Still breathing hard, I looked back up into his eyes as he moved away, but his arms stayed around me, keeping most of my body melded to his. I wanted for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just kept staring at my face as if he was committing it to memory.

  “I don't want to die,” I whispered, the water almost drowning out the words.

  He gave me a sad smile in return, but when he opened his mouth, his voice was strong, reassuring,

  “And you're not going to. Not on my watch.”

  I wished I shared that optimism.

  “I was inside the hot lab for twelve minutes with a ruptured glove. And even if it was smooth sailing so far, I doubt that we'll walk out of here just so.”

  Now his usual grin was back.

  “'We?'” he echoed.

  The temptation to roll my eyes at him was strong.

  “Yes, we. Unless you’ve changed your mind and discard me like a rag once you're done.”

  He made a considering face but started to laugh when I poked a finger into his obliques.

  “Honestly, I'd rather keep you around. Once you're mad beyond reason you're a lot of fun, and I could use another element full of erratic randomness in my life.”

  “Aw, so sweet!” I teased, then stretched so I could plant a kiss on his nose. He foiled the maneuver by nudging my face away, but then made up for it with another deep, lingering kiss. When he let go—his hands sliding across my body before losing contact—it felt less like a good-bye, and more like a promise of more later.

  My mind swam with a million things that I might have said, and he looked at me for a moment as if he wanted to reply to all of them, but in the end we just turned around and cleaned up. The neurotic part of my brain resurfaced, telling me that scrubbing myself raw was the only sane thing to do, but I kept my motions deliberate and efficient instead.

  If my stun
t really turned out to be fatal, no amount of disinfectant would change that now.

  Chapter 23

  I was done dressing well ahead of Nate, with only my underwear and other set of scrubs to don. That left me with a few blissful moments of rest, sitting on the changing room bench with nothing else to do than watch him dress—and feel the photo in my back pocket sear a hole into my conscience. I didn't even reach for it, but the reason for my partial discomfort must have been quite obvious as Nate sent me a rather nasty smirk as he started buttoning up his shirt.

  “Regrets already?”

  I shook my head, chewing briefly on my chapped bottom lip to find words that didn't want to be found.

  “You mean because I technically cheated on my girlfriend? For, what, the tenth time? Twelfth? The only thing that’s different is that now I know what you see in me. Kind of.”

  “Quite literally, I'd say,” he offered, then leaned closer, almost as if he wanted to kiss me, but I didn't fall for it. Whatever had happened in the shower, that moment was gone, and while the balance between us had definitely shifted, I couldn't see him necking on the job. “Practically, and quite thoroughly, if I might say so. Remember, I was there.”

  “How could I forget?” I squeaked, then sent him a withering glare that he, of course, ignored. “I don't regret it. I don't feel guilty.”

  “Then why are you fidgeting as if you were sitting on a lump of hot coal?”

  I shrugged, not quite sure myself.

  “Maybe because on some level I feel like I should?”

  “I think you're beyond such bullshit,” he observed succinctly. “You never looked particularly shaken up in the past.”

  “Well, it wasn't like I never felt like I didn’t do something wrong,” I said, probably a little too sharply not to sound defensive. “Besides, that would still make me the much more faithful partner in our relationship.”

  A look of surprise crossed his face.

  “You knew she was cheating on you?”

  And obviously I hadn't been the only one.

  “I'm not stupid, and I'm not completely oblivious. I was never home, and Sam has always been the more socially needy of the two of us. She always showers the moment she gets home, but I could often still smell them on her hair, or her clothes. And every time, I kind of hoped that she'd finally met the one she'd break up with me for, because then I wouldn't have to do it myself.”

  He halted in lacing up his combat boots, his knee right next to my head.

  “Why didn't you?”

  “That's the big question, now isn’t it?” I shrugged, not because I didn't know, but because admitting the knowledge behind it to myself made me feel empty inside. Yet if I’d learned anything today, it was that I was done lying to myself. “It's not that I don't love her. Still do. But things change. People change. It was convenient to live together, have someone to share the rent with, to snuggle up to when I got lonely. Do the dishes, groceries, not be the pathetic thirty-something single at the Christmas party.”

  He regarded me for a moment longer, already losing interest.

  “Bullshit.”

  “But it's true,” I surmised, then thought about it. “You know, it kind of started as an act of rebellion on my side. Backfired, too. I mean, sure, the sex was great and I definitely swing that way, too, but I guess it was my attempt to draw a line and emancipate myself from the girl I'd been in high school. Experiment with your lesbian college roommate, so cliché, so daring. Only that everyone was like, 'oh, I'm so happy for you!' and 'this explains so much!', as if not being the most promiscuous being on Earth and out to get a science degree said anything about my sexual preferences. But they wouldn't stop there, no, they went all, 'and she's so good for you!', and suddenly she was the convenient excuse for everything I didn't want to shove into people's faces.”

  “And then I came along and burst your happy little bubble,” he observed.

  I met his grin with a bland look.

  “Maybe. You certainly shook me hard enough to wake me up from it.”

  He considered that for a moment, leaning in again, and this time his face was definitely close enough to touch.

  “You're not going to fall back asleep again. You may bitch and scream at me all you want, but deep down you love the woman you finally admit you are. That's why you stood up for yourself and kicked the living shit out of Greene. That's why you went back into the vault. And that's why you fucked me again. I don't suffer from any illusions of grandeur that make me believe that I have a magical dick that can just-like-that change your life, but I'm not blind or oblivious, either.”

  Staring at him from up close, I was sorely tempted to try to engage him in another go, but then left it at a smile.

  “I doubt that your ego needs any stroking, but if anyone's cock could change my life, it's yours.”

  “You say the sweetest things,” he remarked, then got up to put on his shoulder holster and check his gun before he put it inside. It still made me uncomfortable so I got up and left the room, ending up in the corridor outside right next to the viewing window of the main hot lab corridor. Except for the explosives, it looked as clean and serene as always, luring the watcher into a false sense of safety.

  Nate joined me seconds later, obviously still not ready to let me out of his sight. He got out his radio and spoke into it, but the usual hiss of static didn't reply. He got out his phone next, and a frown appeared on his face.

  “You'll likely not get a good signal down here. The shell of the hot lab screws with reception somewhat badly.”

  He shook his head. “I am getting a signal, which is disconcerting in and of its own.”

  I didn't know what to reply to that, but just then something in the corridor behind the viewing window caught my attention. Squinting inside, I wasn't sure what it had been, but then I saw it again.

  Something flashed red. Something at the detonator controls.

  My blood turned to ice.

  “Uh, are they supposed to do that?” I asked. Even before I could explain myself so any sentient human being could maybe understand, Nate’s head whipped around and he stared straight at the explosives, cutting right to the chase.

  “Shit.”

  Just then his phone chirped with the most annoying message notification tone I'd ever heard, but instead of going for it, Nate hit a button on the side of his watch.

  “Did the lights come on just now, or were they on when you got here already?”

  “I don’t—” I started to say, but then shook my head. “Just now. I'm sure.”

  He gave a curt nod, then grabbed the sleeve of my scrubs and started dragging me toward the connective tunnel that would bring us back to the main building. I caught myself soon enough and quickened my step so that I was walking next to him. He let go to type something into his phone.

  “Care to explain what is going on?”

  That something was wrong was clear from his reaction, and when his face darkened after looking at the phone display, I figured it must have been something worse than just a distraction. I really didn't like this.

  “We're about to lose control of the atrium.”

  “You what?”

  He gave me a quick grin, likely because he'd caught my switch back to excluding myself in his merry band of murdering miscreants

  “The red lights you saw coming on are the detonators arming themselves. Except for manual dismantling, nothing can stop the countdown now. It was triggered automatically when the power supply to the control station was cut. Seeing as it was both running on generators and leeching off the main building power grid, it means that someone shot the fucking computers into the stone age. Whether we're ready or not, the last phase of the plan has begun.”

  “Last phase?” I echoed like a deranged parrot.

  “Evacuation.”

  “Shit.” Suddenly his brisk pace was like a crawl, and it took me a lot to stop myself from launching into a run. “You said the detonators were remote controlled befor
e? How long do we have?”

  He checked his watch.

  “Twenty-six minutes and ten seconds.”

  “Shit!” I said a lot more emphatically, and now I did speed up. He kept up with me easily, and, damn him, was even grinning a little. “That's not funny! Even using the fastest, most direct route it takes almost ten minutes to get to the atrium from here!”

  “Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds at a brisk walk, but it's unlikely that we'll be able to maintain that speed. If they're in the atrium, they'll start screening the corridors around it immediately, and we'll run into those outward-expanding search parties before we get there.”

  “Is there no other way out?”

  He shook his head.

  “Nope. The only way to ensure that no one could threaten our operation was to turn the entire complex into a one-exit-only affair. Don't worry, I'm not ready to roll over and let them fuck me in the ass just yet.”

  By then we'd reached the upper end of the corridor, and much to my dismay Nate stopped there. Getting out his knife, he pried open one of the wall panels, revealing a cavity behind it that was full to the brim with weapons. My eyes might have bugged a bit as I skimmed over at least thirty handguns and rifles neatly stacked in a floor-to-ceiling rack built into the wall itself.

  “Just how much planning did you put into this operation?” I murmured, more to myself than him.

  “Hopefully enough to get us out mostly unscathed,” came his blithe reply.

  Instead of going for the rifles, as I'd expected, he got a small black box out of the bottom of the panel, which turned out to be another radio. Several lights flashed on it, and after fiddling with the controls, shouts—mixed with the staccato of gunfire and static—came out of the speaker, startling me.

  “Status?” Nate barked into the radio—and then we had to wait for endless seconds that I felt we really didn’t have until he received a reply, from Pia, it sounded like. The techie couldn’t have managed such a bark.

  “Incursion. At least fifty troops, more coming in through the secondary entry. We shot their fucking tank to so much scrap metal, but the perimeter is breached. I repeat, we have a breach—“