"What did you think I was worrying about?" I asked as we drew apart.
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, making him look more his age instead of so fresh-faced he was practically a college kid. "You were thinking our relationship wouldn't work out. Something about counseling and work — and me wanting somebody else. But I don't," he said softly, still holding me gently, looking at me with his big, confiding eyes. They held such gentle warmth, all for me. Like he thought I was special and completely trustworthy.
"You know, for a long time, I didn't trust myself," he said haltingly. "Because of Roger. I thought I could trust him, and I was wrong, so…" He shrugged. "But I can trust you — and I do. With everything. Do you know how hard that is to find? It's not just because I can read your feelings. I see the man you are every day. I see how you care about me, how you're kind to me and don't look down on me. How you honestly like me — and look at me and see an attractive person. Not a conquest, or a piece of meat, or something to use and leave. Just … me. Always, you look at me. Even if I couldn't read your thoughts, I'd see it in your eyes. You care, Hunt. You love me. And I love you, too." He took a breath and pressed himself against me, just breathing, as if he felt safer being near.
I rubbed his back. I was too touched to think of words to speak, wasn't sure I'd have been able to get them out anyway.
"Oh." He cleared his throat and drew back self-consciously. "Felix asked why I still call you 'Hunt,' if we're getting married. Should I start calling you Neil?" He raised his perfectly shaped, expressive brows gingerly. It touched me that he cared what I preferred.
I grimaced. "No, I've never been super fond of my first name. Just … keep calling me Hunt."
"Hunt and Sky." He smiled fondly. "That's what we'll put on our wedding invitations." He gave me another squeeze, as if he couldn't get over it.
I cleared my throat, trying to swallow my grin. I didn't want to look smug, even though I kind of felt it. The captain was wrong — he had to be. Sky liked me, wanted to keep me. And he'd get to, always.
"The captain was here and he wanted me to try to convince everybody we should stay at the precinct."
"Oh." His brow wrinkled. "That's why you were upset. I'm sorry."
I shrugged. "Things are changing. It's hard for some people to accept change." I wasn't going to repeat any of what he'd said if I didn't have to.
Sky looked at me inquiringly, like he was wondering if there was more to it than that, but he didn't ask for details. "Well, maybe they'll assign another empath here eventually. They treated me so much better than the last place I worked." He gave a delicate shudder. "I don't think he's a bad person, just … gruff. He knows better how to treat empaths now. Especially if they're not as much of a mess as me, it should work great." His grin was a little too wide now, and his eyes were pained.
It was my turn to squeeze him close. "You're not a mess," I told him fondly, and I meant it. "You're just fine."
I gave him another kiss, and then we forgot about work and the captain and the future for a while.
#
"Hunter?" That psychic named Barnes was on the phone to me, sounding stressed. I didn't know him well, but apparently it was urgent he get in touch.
"Yes, sir?"
He cleared his throat uncomfortably, as if even now it was awkward. "I've, ah, had a sort of vision. It wasn't terribly precise, I'm afraid, which is worrying. But … you need to start carrying a gun again. At all times. Never leave it off for a second, until this … whatever it is … is resolved."
The fuck?
"Um … yes, sir," I managed. "Could you please speak with my new supervisors so they don't give me any trouble?" I hadn't been armed since before our rescue. And since I was no longer a member of the police force, I'd been required to turn in my gun and badge.
"I've spoken to someone. They'll see you have an adequate weapon." He cleared his throat again. "I'm sorry for being so imprecise," he said gruffly. I realized with surprise he was embarrassed. He'd predicted big things for the government, so one little thing for me and Sky should be easy. But it clearly didn't always work that way, any more than Sky could always tell what people were thinking.
"Don't worry about it," I promised. "It's all good. Thanks for the warning."
I went to talk to Delacruz as soon as possible, and he got me a weapon. A good one.
After that, I didn't take it off except for a quick shower. Even in bed with Sky I kept it close, within arm's reach at all times. It made him a little nervous, but he tried not to mind, especially when he heard why.
"It could be years before you need it, though," he complained. "You'll have to worry about it all that time. I wished he'd … well, had more luck." He shrugged. "With precision."
"Me too. But if it takes years, we'll be used to it by then. Just a habit, you know. Let's try not to worry about it."
I kissed him, and that helped.
I was kissing him a lot lately. We were getting married soon, and we bought our rings for each other online. A matching set. It would be a wedding in front of a justice of the peace, with guards, before we flew west for more training.
I couldn't wait.
Being with Sky had opened whole new horizons for me. While before I'd never even thought I would have a real relationship, I was now going to have a committed, legally recognized one. It was insane — insanely wonderful, that is.
#
Sky held my hand the whole time, really nervous. He also had tears in his eyes. His voice shook a little as he said the words, promising to be my husband as long as we both lived.
I wished I was sure he was happy instead of scared or doubtful. As soon as I thought it, he gave me such a shining smile that I didn't wonder or worry anymore.
After the brief but moving ceremony, we kissed. The guards and judge seemed as bored as ever, but we didn't care. We were husbands now. We walked out holding hands. I couldn't stop smiling. I felt silly with a big grin plastered on my face, so wide it hurt, but I just couldn't stop.
We had to fly out tomorrow morning, no more delays. The therapist had headed back and our keepers were gone. We had only a few guards keeping an eye on us, bored and ready to get back to whatever they normally did.
We did, however, have permission to spend our wedding night at my old home, the one I'd been fixing up — the place where Sky and I had fallen in love.
It was going to be great.
Unfortunately, I hadn't been home since our rescue. There was bound to be a mess in the fridge. We stopped at a restaurant and got a nice meal to take home with us, and something for the bodyguards as well, since they had to put up with our lovebird ways and take care of us.
They seemed like okay guys, just bored out of their minds. They would stay in the car unless we needed them.
Sky wasn't scared of them, though, which I took to be a very good sign.
When we got home, I fumbled twice with the key. Sky held the takeout containers. It was a warm night. My hands shook even though I didn't know why. I felt choked up.
Sky let out a soft little laugh. "We can always come back, you know. Live here someday, if you want."
I shrugged. I'd always planned to sell the place — that's why I'd bought it, to fix up and sell — but I was surprised by the rush of bittersweet memories now that we were here, possibly for the last time on the doorstep.
"It was kind of an investment," I mumbled. "I can't just leave it unsold on a maybe."
"Sure you can." He bumped me gently with his shoulder, his arms too full of our meal to touch me any other way. His smile was warm and filled with confidence in me — faith and trust. "We'll be making enough it'll be okay. This is an investment either way. It'll be worth more someday, or we'll want to live here."
That was extremely confident and insistent, for Sky. He must really want it a lot. Or else he could feel that I did. I couldn't even tell my own heart on the matter, so I'd have to trust his. I nodded, but didn't try to speak.
We go
t inside and set the food on the table, but I was scared to open the fridge. Sky laughed and tugged the door open, then made the appropriate gagging noises over sour milk. It had been a week since we were here. Most things hadn't spoiled, but the milk had gone bad and some leftovers had turned funny-looking colors. He dumped it all into the garbage or down the drain in a quick, no-nonsense manner, and bundled up the trash and put it on the porch.
"It could've been much worse. Some of the places I've lived, cockroaches take over that quickly."
I bundled him close for a hug, and he returned it tightly, smiling against my skin. "Maybe we should eat first," he said gently as I tugged at the bottom of his shirt.
"Okay, but take your shirt off so I can look at your pretty self."
He laughed and ducked his head, cheeks heating. Nice to know I could still surprise him.
"You always surprise me, Hunt," he managed in a soft voice, looking up at me with his big, warm eyes. "You care about me. You love me."
"I hope that won't be a surprise someday." I was only half joking. He deserved love, and to feel that he deserved it. Maybe someday we'd get there. I was still delighted and surprised with him, too.
We sat down to eat our meal before it congealed. And yes, he tugged off his shirt so I could see his lovely bare chest while we ate. I told him the view was gorgeous.
"You'll have to shut off the electricity, of course, and decide what to do about everything else later."
I agreed absently. As we ate, I enjoyed the view and the food and the comforts of being in a familiar, friendly place, but Sky seemed to grow more and more quiet, distant, and sad. He kept his gaze down, stopped smiling so much, and seemed unhappy and withdrawn. It wasn't good.
"What?" I asked him after a minute, putting my fork down. "Something's up. Can I help?"
He looked at me and smiled, flashing a bright, tearful smile. "I feel naked," he said softly. "But … but in a bad way. Like someone's watching. Like…" He bit his lip and shook his head gently. "I don't…"
I got up and walked over to him, handing him his shirt back. "I wasn't trying to make you feel that way." I stood by him while he put it on, then rubbed his back gently with one hand. I liked comforting him but was sorry he needed it so much, sorry I'd distressed him.
"No," he said softly. "It's not … you never looked at me that way." He gazed down at the table and traced a finger on the wood grain. He cleared his throat gruffly. "Roger, back when … when I was his boyfriend, sometimes he was annoyed, and … and thought I was trying to escape or something, so he'd insist, even when I took a shower, he wanted to keep an eye on me. I felt so naked. It's not like … like when we take a shower together, to enjoy it." He looked up at me guiltily, begging me to understand. "I felt … naked. Worse than naked."
Vulnerable and hurt and judged.
"Again, I'm so sorry I made you feel that way." I got down on my knees beside him and wrapped an arm around him.
"No. I'm trying to tell you, you didn't. But something is making me feel that way." He looked at me from under eyelashes that fluttered a little. He looked guilty and scared at the same time, and took hold of my wrist. "Can you believe me?"
"Of course. Of course I believe you." I hopped up, looking around. Nobody was in the room, or the next. The curtains weren't open. I paced anxiously. "Do you think that someone's here? You feel watched?"
He nodded, his eyes big and nervous. "But they checked, right? I mean, they ch-checked the place?"
Had they? I thought so but suddenly couldn't remember. "Let's ask," I said and moved to the door.
Sky came with me, as if he felt eager to escape the house. We'd kicked our shoes off, and it was a warm day. We crossed barefoot to the car with the bodyguards in it, bored but professional, and I knocked at the glass. "Um, you guys checked the house, right? Sky's getting some weird vibes from inside there."
The guy behind the wheel pushed his sunglasses up and looked at us, back and forth — I knew what he was doing, and I hated that. The look he gave Sky, like he thought the guy was crazy. Then the look he gave me, like if I thought it, maybe there was something there. I could be trusted, and Sky couldn't.
"Forget it," said Sky. "Don't worry. I'm — I'm probably just edgy."
And always too quick to back down.
"No," I said. "I want to be sure there's nobody there. Or bugs, either," I added with inspiration. That would account for feeling watched with nobody there, right?
Sky gave a little gasp. "Oh — if he slipped in somehow…" His voice trailed off.
Roger Gruver had worked in security. He could've easily gotten access to bugs and been able to plant them strategically in the house. He could well have been watching our romantic dinner … but from where?
Creepier and creepier.
The security men moved now. They started taking our concerns seriously.
I was pissed off with them, and I determined to ask that we be able to work with others, people who didn't treat Sky like he was crazy until proven correct. People who just fucking believed him right off.
"It's okay," said Sky softly, giving my hand a squeeze. "You do. You always do."
It wasn't enough, but it would have to be for now.
"You felt like he was watching," I said, thinking hard. I kept hold of his hand, stroking absently with my thumb, keeping us connected. "But your abilities don't work over a long distance — at least, not that long. Do they?"
He shook his head, biting his lip. I could see from the slightly frantic look in his eyes that he was getting turned on and didn't want to be distracted when he was trying to think. I released his hand with an apologetic smile, and he returned it guiltily.
"No," he said at last. "It doesn't, not usually. Not like that. I could feel … it felt like when he used to watch me. Angry, sort of … like he wanted to be in charge or hurt me. Bad things, you know. But him."
I hoped I would never make him feel that way, and that no one else would again, either.
"So he's near. Can he see us now? Is he watching?" I motioned towards the car. "Let's sit in here and wait for them to sweep. Let me know what you can feel."
He nodded distractedly, his face screwed up in concentration. "Honey, it's hard to tell," he admitted.
"That's okay." We got in the back seat and waited. "Do you think we should call the cops?" he asked after a minute. "I mean, since we might have a lead on Gruver?"
That was a good idea, and I hadn't thought of it.
While I dug out my cell phone and called it in, I could practically feel Sky's concentration thrumming beside me as he tried to work out why he could feel his evil ex's attention and how close the man might be.
We were in a neighborhood with a lot of rundown buildings, older residents, and a few gutted places. It was an up-and-coming area, or soon would be; property developers were buying up, fixing up, and building. There was always some sort of construction. I had been lucky enough to get a big old building to fix up and had been working at it steadily. Even doing most of the work myself, it had been coming along nicely in the last year.
Of course, for quite a bit of that time, I'd had Sky's help. He might not be great with machinery or tools, but he was careful and watchful and a quick learner. He got nervous if he thought coordination would be required for the job, and then of course he couldn't manage anything that required a lot of balance or a steady hand, but when he didn't think about it a lot, he did great.
Maybe his other strengths were much the same: if he thought about it too hard, it actually worked less well. I took his hand again and pulled it onto my lap.
"Hunt," he complained. "I'm trying to work here."
I laughed, and started to play my fingers on the palm of his hand. He squirmed and grinned and halfheartedly tried to tug free from me in a way that showed he didn't really want to get away at all. I grinned, suspicions confirmed, and tugged him into my arms for a kiss.
He was relaxed and grinning by the time we parted, his eyes warm and smiling fo
r me, his whole face alight with nothing but affection.
"Try again now," I whispered.
"Oh — that's not why you kissed me, is it?" He looked offended.
"Well, I was going to kiss you either way," I admitted. "But still, try again now."
He gave a quick nod and concentrated, biting his lip in that distracted, distracting way he had. After a moment, he said, "I feel him, but he's not watching me now."
"Then maybe he's watching the men in the house?"
He gave a short nod, his whole being tensed and nervous again. He groped unconsciously for my hand, and I caught and squeezed it. Some of his tension eased, but most of it remained.
"Yes, he's definitely nearby and watching the house," he said again, and gave a decisive nod.
"Maybe he set up a surveillance area in one of the construction areas in one of these houses," I observed. It gave me a funny, crawly feeling on my back, because if that was the case, what else had he set up? Booby traps? A sniper rifle aimed right at us?
Sky spoke decisively. "He feels angry, but I can't tell if he has a gun or any immediate plans. It feels … darker than that," he admitted, shuddering, and looked at me with frightened eyes. "Like he's planning to make me hurt."
I didn't say anything, but I made a quick call to the men inside, telling them we needed to speak to them. I didn't want anything getting through the surveillance equipment to Gruver. It could be sensitive enough to pick up enough of the phone conversation to warn him. Hell, he probably already had been warned we were suspicious, but did he mean to stick it out or run to ground again?
He was still hidden from us, though. And his whole plan — whatever it was — counted on not being found out in time. That meant Sky not getting suspicious, or if he did, not being able to pinpoint him. Or even being able to guess but not have anyone listen to him.
Roger Gruver had balls, and he wasn't far off the mark on each thing. It was a close call if we'd find him. But we were looking — and everyone was going to take Sky seriously about this, or else.
SAFE (Men of the ESRB Book 1) Page 12
