by MB Austin
Rose inhaled the sheet and handed it back, keeping the pillow. “No reminders, or I may just drag you in with me.” The realization that she probably could do that warmed her, and she couldn’t stop the smug smile that tugged at the edges of her mouth. “Talk about leaving it all on the mat.”
“Say good night, Rose,” Maji said as she pushed the door to Hannah’s office open.
Rose gave her a featherlight kiss on the cheek as she passed through the doorway, the pillow clutched to her front. “Good night, Rose.”
Maji was just pushing the door to Hannah’s office open again, sorry to have to wake Rose after less than an hour, when a hand settled on her shoulder. She spun around and nearly cracked skulls with Iris.
“What are you doing back here? Are you crazy?” Iris demanded.
“We didn’t leave.”
Iris’s expression shifted from righteous concern to flirtation. “Damn. Now I wish I hadn’t run off.”
But playing was not on Maji’s agenda. “And what the fuck was all that going-to-call-my-editor bullshit?”
“I was trying to help.” Iris continued standing too close. “Hey, I made them squirm, didn’t I? And I got their license plate number.”
Maji took a step back, propping the door open with her backside. “You drew attention to yourself, to this place, to the kids. You raised the risk level for everyone.”
“Why do you blame me whenever I try to protect you?”
Maji shouldn’t tangle with Iris when she was this tired. But if Iris demanded answers, she could take what Maji had to dish out. “Because your tactical judgment sucks almost as much as your ethics. And because I don’t want your protection. I don’t need it.”
“If you think that, you don’t know the danger you’re in.”
“I know as much as I need to.”
Iris laughed bitterly. “Is that what he tells you, your so-called friend? I don’t even have the full story yet, but I can tell already he’s stirring up a hornet’s nest.”
“So walk away from your Pulitzer.”
Iris looked uncharacteristically earnest. “I will, if you go with me. Right now, before you get hurt.”
“That’s not on the table.”
“Don’t write me off like that. Ri, if you want me to take a knee, I will. I want you on the road with me. Think of the difference we could make, together.”
“Not interested.”
“I’m not talking about being a hired gun, just keeping me safe. I’m not even going to play the sex card, though God knows, we’re hot together. You can’t deny that.”
“Look, I—”
“Wait.” Iris put her hand to Maji’s lips. “I want you as a real partner, Ri.” She dropped to one knee and smiled imploringly up. “Marry me.”
Maji stared down at her, then sighed. “Here. Get up, Iris.”
Iris took her hand, and straightened up. “There’s nothing the Army can give you that I can’t. Come out, and walk away. You’ll have a job, health care, incredible travel—and me. We’d be unstoppable.”
“And when I lose my legs to an IED? Or a bullet severs my spine? Will you drop your forty weeks a year and the Pulitzer chase, and make a new life with me?”
Iris gave her that all-too-familiar look of dismissal. “You can’t scare me off that easily. I’ve seen you out there, and I’ve seen you in here. You’re not standard issue.”
“You don’t know who or what I am.” And you never will.
Iris grinned as if she’d won the argument. “Oh, whatever you really are, I’m sure it’s classified. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were Delta.”
“But you do know better.”
Iris gave a snort. “Who’s to say? For years the Army claimed not to have a Delta Unit. Now it swears there’s no such thing as a female Delta operator.”
“Not much point speculating on that, unless you’re pitching to the National Enquirer. And now we’re done talking.”
“You want to shut me up, you know how to make me.” Iris pressed into Maji, breathing into her ear.
Maji put a hand between them, to push her back. When Iris misinterpreted the move, sliding a hand to Maji’s belly and sucking on her earlobe, Maji put the offending hand in a wrist lock.
Iris flinched away. “Ow!” Her eyes flared. “Let me go.”
“After you back up. Back, back…” Maji walked Iris out the door, and it closed between them. Maji exhaled loudly, mad at herself for losing control so easily.
She heard Bubbles’s voice in the hallway, along with the sounds of students banging their way into the locker room. The top of Rose’s head peeked over the desk.
Maji looked back at her. “Sorry about your nap.”
After the hugs and good-byes, they slipped out the back door into the parking lot full of host-family cars waiting to take students away for a long weekend. Maji and Rose wove between the cars and slid through the little door in the fence and into the waiting Humvee.
Dev didn’t say a word on the short drive. Whatever choice words he had in store for her, at least he was nice enough to keep quiet while Rose dozed again. Of course, he probably hadn’t slept last night, either, on watch. Maybe he was just too tired to give her any shit.
As they pulled up to Angelo’s front door, Maji shook Rose gently. “Home sweet home.”
Rose stirred, groaning. She sat up, getting her bearings. Sleepy looked adorable on her.
Maji gave a fleeting thought to carrying Rose indoors, up the stairs…No—she needed to get her head back in the game, to stop thinking like that. She sighed.
Rose leaned back, stretching, then gave Maji’s hand a squeeze. “Yeah. Damn.”
“Grab another slice, hon, or you won’t get more,” Jackie said to Rose.
Rose really didn’t want more pizza. She worried from the way the guys dove in, nearly wrestling over the pizza, that they hadn’t eaten at all while watching over the dojo.
Maji, too, had inhaled three slices and a heaping pile of salad. Rose marveled at her appetite. The comparison made her blush. “No more for me, thanks.”
Frank passed her the big wooden salad bowl with a quiet smile. Did he know, too? Well, it couldn’t possibly surprise him. And her taking Maji to bed hadn’t fazed him, before. He really was a sweetheart. She returned the smile and accepted the salad.
“I was worried sick,” Aunt Jackie said for the fourth time in the two hours since their return.
“I told you they were fine, Ma,” Angelo replied for the fourth time. “Hey, Ma—if you won five million, what would you do with it?”
“I don’t need five mil, Ang. Nice try.”
Rose smiled at him across the table. For years, she’d seen him use that distraction on his mother. Her answers were usually inventive, related to whatever had disturbed her. Like the time Carlo had scraped the side of his car up, and her idea of just punishment was “If I had a million bucks, I’d pay a cop to follow you around and give you tickets every time you got behind the wheel.”
Rose looked to Frank. “What about you? Where would five million take you?”
Frank looked thoughtful. “I’d get a sporty car—not a Vette, something with class. A Jag, maybe. The rest…I guess, women’s shelters. You know, for women and kids getting out of bad situations.”
“And what about places like Rose and Ri’s self-defense school? Teach them how to stand up, not get hurt in the first place.” Jackie seemed fully engaged, back in the present.
“And programs that teach men to deal with their own shit, rather than taking it out on the women who love them,” Maji pitched in. “Can we cover that, too, Frank?”
“Sure, yeah, all of that.”
Rose gave his hand a squeeze. “In that case, send a little to the women who abuse, too. Gay or straight, they do exist.”
He nodded seriously. “Okay, Ang, here’s the rundown: three mil to the shelters and whatnot, one mil to help guys tackle their own shit, one mil to help women who hurt women, or kids,
or whoever.”
Angelo extended his hand across the table and shook Frank’s. “Done.” He looked around the table. “Who’s next?”
“But be careful what you wish for,” Jackie warned. “This kid has a funny way of making things happen. And now he’s gonna be rich, you never know.”
“Too late for us,” Tom replied. “We’ve played this game a lot, the last few years. No updates, Ang.”
Angelo looked to Maji. “What about you, Ri? Any updates?”
Rose wondered what Dev and Tom had wished for. Something for themselves? Or as she guessed for Maji, only help for others?
“Ri already won the jackpot,” Dev interjected, his eyes flicking to Rose and then settling on Maji. “Asking for anything more would just be greedy.”
Maji flushed deeply, but held her tongue.
“He’s just jealous,” Tom assured the table as a whole. “Face it, dude, you miss your wife. We should all be so lucky as you.”
Angelo raised his hands. “You’ll all be home soon, I promise.”
Maji excused herself from the table. “I gotta fall into bed before I fall down.”
“How’s your head?” Dev waved his fingers by his eyes, suggesting visual disturbance or other symptoms. Done with brotherly harrassment and back in field medic mode.
“Three-ish,” she answered honestly. Mild symptoms. She inclined her head toward Rose. “Keep her safe.”
The guys all nodded, and Rose raised one ironic eyebrow, then smiled in resignation. “Sleep well.”
In the doorway, Maji turned back. “What time’s my watch?”
“We got you,” Angelo replied.
The whole team had probably been up all night, too. At least she’d worked in a nap. But her muscles ached and a dull throb was starting behind her eyes, so she didn’t argue. Tomorrow she’d be back to top form, and she’d make sure to stay that way until the mission was complete.
Lying in Carlo’s old bed, staring up at his ceiling by the light of the alarm clock, Maji thought not of the night before but of the next few to come. As soon as the Hotel Nacional party was over, they needed to be ready. She wasn’t there yet, but for the first time since Angelo had dropped his bomb on her, a plan was gelling in her brain. And though she’d need to talk to Tom and Dev to smooth out the logistics, just knowing she could do what she had to was a relief. And she wondered what role last night had played in getting her to that mind space. Later, maybe, she’d look back and feel bitter at Angelo for his puppeteering. But tonight she wouldn’t fight the rare peace she felt.
Rose woke alone, half expecting to find Maji in her bed. She closed her eyes against the bright morning light and let herself replay bits and pieces of their night in the dojo. Now that was a place of enlightenment. No one Rose had dated, or slept with, had ever been so honest about the effect she had on them. No wonder Maji had insisted they keep their distance, an artificial wall of dispassionate civility. How would they manage that, the next few days?
Rose looked at the clock. After ten. She rolled off the bed and stumbled to the shower. As she toweled off, Rose thought for the first time beyond the summer. What would Maji be like on an everyday basis? And how much longer was she indentured to the Army, anyway? Rose resolved to hold her questions, her doubts, for a few more days. Maji and Angelo—the whole team—had bigger issues to deal with than her domestic tranquility. She chuckled, pulling on her swimsuit. A private home life with Maji did not sound tranquil.
Maji sat backward on the dining room chair, trying not to move when the tattoo pen tickled. Dev had inked the band of thorns and roses around her right bicep already. The heart with A + R 4ever on the back of her left shoulder was setting nicely. She kept her palms on the dining table, her head bowed toward the floor, willing her muscles to stay relaxed. Dev hated to erase the squiggles, and it was no fun on her end, either. Even with a good night’s rest under her belt, she’d pass on that.
“Morning.” Rose’s voice sounded relaxed.
“Still?” Dev replied. “Feels like lunchtime.”
“What would you like me to make?” Rose’s feet appeared in Maji’s field of vision in flip-flops.
“Didn’t mean it like that, ma’am.” The pen cap snicked shut. “Were you headed for the pool?”
“Yes, but I could use breakfast, myself.”
“Good. Please don’t go out just yet,” Maji added, daring to move enough to speak. “Tom will be up again soon, and Frank should be back in a bit. We’re going to be at this a little longer.”
Rose let out a little hum. “May I watch?”
“You can look, but don’t touch.” Dev uncapped the pen again.
Maji turned her head slightly toward him. “Dude.”
“Meant with all due respect, ma’am.”
“Dev,” Rose replied, sounding testy, “if you call me that again, I will start saluting whenever I see you.”
Maji snorted. “Sniper check, dude.” Of course, Rose didn’t even know Dev’s rank. But in their circles, getting treated as if you were an officer didn’t go over well, even if no snipers noticed.
“Not from a civilian, dude,” Dev countered. “Let’s try and remember she is one.”
“Ignore him, Rose,” Maji said. “The ink fumes go to his head.”
“Well, they are beautiful designs. How long will they last?”
“Five to ten days, depending,” he answered.
Rose didn’t ask what it depended on. Smart move. Maji couldn’t see her feet anymore, but she smelled close by. That didn’t make staying still any easier. She consciously slowed her breathing.
“How about a bee?” Rose suggested. “You know, like the one Erlea has.”
Maji wondered just how much Rose had figured out about that trip to Spain. If she’d read the news coverage, there were connections she could make, even without any classified information. “No,” she snapped.
Dev didn’t ask. “I’m just going to finish this one, and then she has to sit very still some more,” he said to Rose. To Maji he added, “We’ll get that last one later.”
She’d be topless to let him caligraph the middle of her back for that one. No audience. Dev worked in silence another few minutes, then capped the last pen. “Done. Give it five, at least.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Thank you for all your help, Dev,” Rose said. “I know you’re giving up time with your family to help mine.”
“I’ll have plenty of time with them soon. And any one of us would do the same.”
“Still, I’m sure they miss you. They finally have you at home almost full-time again.”
He chuckled. “Not again. First time. They won’t know what to do when I’m not disappearing every few days, or weeks, when I—”
Maji cleared her throat loudly. “Stop talking,” she hissed in Arabic.
“You haven’t told her yet?” he replied in kind.
“No, and I’m not going to,” Maji spat back, trying not to tense all her back and shoulder muscles. “It’s not like we’re engaged.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, just ask me to leave the room,” Rose said. Her flip-flops slapped on the kitchen linoleum, and Maji heard her banging cupboard doors next.
“Mind your own fucking lane,” Maji said softly but clearly, knowing Dev could hear.
“Hooah.” He gathered his ink set with a tumbling clatter of pens falling into the plastic case. “I’ll go roust Tom.”
Rose noticed that everywhere she went on Saturday, if Maji was nearby, someone else was always present. When she tried to speak with Maji semiprivately by the pool, Maji gave a little tap to her ear. To remind her that even there, they weren’t alone. By bedtime Rose had had enough. She set her book down by the living room couch and found Frank and Maji in the kitchen, cleaning up the last of the night’s detritus from dinner for seven. Nobody in this house let her clean when she cooked.
There was no way to approach Maji without going through Frank. “Frank, would you give us a minute?”
&
nbsp; “Sure, hon.” He dropped the dish towel on the countertop.
“No,” Maji countermanded.
Rose looked around Frank at her. “Shall we talk with him standing between us?”
“Take a seat, Frank.” The expression on Maji’s face was hard to read.
If Rose didn’t know better, she’d think Maji was angry. But now that she did, scared seemed like a better guess. She stepped aside and let Frank pass, then leaned one hip against the counter, careful not to get too close. “Will you join me tonight?” She hoped that sounded like a question, not a request or a plea.
“No.” Maji didn’t quite meet her eye.
Rose crossed her arms. “Last night, I assumed we were both catching up on rest. Will you not be coming back to my room at all?”
“I don’t trust myself to stay on the floor.” Maji tapped her ear.
Well, if she didn’t want her friends to hear, she could turn the damn bug off. “So you didn’t get me out of your system, then.”
“I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.” The look in Maji’s eyes was pain.
Rose resisted reaching out to her physically. “Do you want to?”
Maji sighed, drew herself to attention, and looked Rose in the eye, her feelings shielded now. “The next three days are critical. I need to keep Angelo alive and then get him out of here safely. To do that, I need to be a hundred and ten percent on my game. You can help by keeping your distance.”
“Three more days,” Rose agreed. Of course Angelo’s safety came first—and Maji’s, too. “But once Ang is safe, I make no promises.”
Maji relaxed visibly. And a hint of sadness crept into her eyes. “Thank you.”
“No,” Rose said. “I let myself forget what you’re really here for.” She brushed a lock of Maji’s hair, escaped from her tight braid, back behind her ear, not letting her touch linger unfairly. “Thank you.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Sunday morning, Angelo had to stop his coding to answer a summons to the Big House. All Ricky said on the phone was, “You got a delivery.”
