Torn (Lords of the City #1)

by Alice Ward

  “Corey…” I admonished, but I held my tongue. This was between them. I wasn’t even really sure what I was doing there.

  Sipping his water, Noah took a minute before he began. “I offered Imogen a role as head of my environmental department, but she declined, so I’d like to offer the same position to you. It involves travel. You’ll be doing good deeds. And the annual salary is much more than you have left in your trust fund.”

  Furious, Corey pounded his fists against the table. “God, Noah, you really don’t get it, do you? I travel because I like it, but the reason I never come home is because of you. Ever since I spent that year in the hospital when we were boys, you’ve been trying to rope me into a corral. I don’t need a keeper, Noah. I need a brother. Why can’t you just be my brother?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Noah argued. “I’m looking out for you.”

  “Well, stop,” Corey said, rising from the table. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Don’t go,” I urged him. “You guys can work through this.”

  “Can we?” Corey asked Noah. “Will you ever stop looking over my shoulder?”

  My heart went out to Noah. He obviously cared very much about his brother, clinging to the bond they had once shared, but it was his downfall. “The nanotechnology we’ve been developing is close to human trials. If you can put your ways on hold for a few years, then I’m certain—”

  “No,” Corey said firmly. “If I stop moving, that’s when I truly die. I don’t want to be trapped by my condition—”

  He stopped and looked at me, his eyes grave, pained.

  I nodded. “I know… about your condition,” I admitted.

  More anger bubbled to the surface. “He told you? He had no right—”

  I held out a placating hand. “It’s alright. He thought I should know.”

  “None of this is alright,” he raged. “I want to live in spite of it. I’m not taunting death. I’m demanding life.”

  Noah tried to object. “But—”

  “There’s no use arguing. In three days, I’m heading to South America.” He turned to me. “Imogen, I want you to come with me. I know some bastard hurt you recently, so you need to take things slow. That’s fine. I just want you there.”

  Fluttering, my stomach could no longer handle any food. I swallowed the carrot in my mouth down like it were stone. Speechless, I didn’t answer.

  “Think about it,” Corey said and stormed off.

  Tentatively, I glanced at Noah. The pain of the tattoo needle was nothing compared to the despair that clouded the air around him. I’d never seen him so dejected.

  “What should I do?” I asked him, forgiving the hurt he had caused me.

  He gathered his napkin from his lap and threw it on his plate. “What do you want to do?” he asked, sounding defeated.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  “You can speak frankly.”

  “I am. South America would be the adventure of a lifetime. And I could use it as an opportunity to research the conservation practices of Latin countries,” the scientist in me rambled. “But there’s a problem.”

  “What?”

  “South America doesn’t have you.”

  It didn’t help. If anything, it appeared to make him more distraught. “Go,” he insisted, the word raw and thick. “He won’t be as reckless if you’re with him. Look after my brother for me. Take care of him. Keep him alive long enough for me to find the answers that will heal him.”

  ***

  “I can’t believe you’re going,” Julia pouted as we stood in our front room, trying to enjoy our last night in the apartment together. “We were supposed to have two weeks of fun, but I’ve barely seen you since Corey returned. It’s not fair that he gets to steal you away so quickly.”

  “It’s a good opportunity for me,” I told her, but I was equally disappointed our reign as roomies had ended so abruptly. “But I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

  “If you come back,” she huffed. “Corey never did.”

  “I’m not Corey,” I assured her. “There’s nothing I’m escaping from. I have Peter and my father to return to. And brothers I still haven’t met. And you, my sister. You most of all.”

  Tears streamed down her flawless mocha cheeks, but she smiled. “You better. Who else is going to do all the work at my wedding? It’s only a matter of time before Ronald proposes.”

  “I’ll be at your wedding,” I promised. “Whenever and wherever it may be.”

  A knock on the door interrupted our moment. “Come in, Peter!” I shouted, recognizing his usual pattern.

  Carrying a huge box of pizza, he strutted into the front room. “It’s not much of a going away party, but farewells aren’t meant to be big. When you come back, that’s when we celebrate,” he stated.

  For the rest of the evening, we stuffed our face full of pepperoni and conspired about the monster robots we were certain were kept on a secret floor at Stafford Scientific. Well, I conspired. Julia and Peter listened, rolling their eyes every five minutes.

  When the sun rose the next morning, I woke on the couch and furtively lifted my body off the cushions, careful not to wake Julia who slept on the other end, or Peter who drooled pepperoni grease onto the floor. Leaving my house key on the counter, I looked at my friends with the greatest of love, so thankful they were in my life.

  Blowing them both a kiss, I grabbed my bags and left, having never been good with farewells, especially not when I was the one disappearing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Colombia

  Visible from the small cargo plane Corey and I were passengers on, the landscape of Colombia was covered with lush jungle valleys and mountains that stood proud like monuments. It was exhilarating to witness firsthand nature that was so untouched and organic. The environmentalist in me was doing backflips inside.

  “I can’t believe we’re here!” I shouted over the drone of the plane. “This is magnificent.”

  “I knew you would like it,” Corey said from the seat across from me. His eyes danced at my reaction. “It’s stunning, but not nearly as much as you are.”

  “What is the village like?” I asked, changing the focus away from me.

  Prior to leaving, I hadn’t asked many questions. I was only going for Corey, to keep my promise to Noah to watch over his brother. That’s what I told myself. Corey was leading the way, and I followed, knowing only that we were headed towards a village where I could do my ecological research. In my rucksack, I had numerous empty journals, elated that I was actually out of the classroom and office and in the field once more. I wasn’t sure what Corey would be doing in that time, but I guessed it had something to do with saving the rainforest or the jaguars or something equally related to the time he’d spent in Thailand.

  “You’ll see for yourself,” Corey answered. “We’re going to land in a few minutes.”

  “Thank goodness! I’m starting to feel a bit air sick. Between the private jet and this thing, I don’t want to see another plane for a gazillion years.”

  “That’s the plan,” he said, beaming. “I’m arranging it so that you’ll never want to leave.”

  The plane dipped to the side, and we made a shaky descent down into a verdant valley covered in dense brush with a river snaking through it. Flying over Colombia, we’d seen many modern cities, but an aerial view of the village revealed round huts with grass roofing built a short distance from more contemporary blocked structures.

  Upon landing, Corey took my hand and helped me out of the plane. Thrilled, I breathed in the fresh air, much purer than Chicago. Exotic native women in long skirts and modern T-shirts came out to greet us, their smiles curious and wide. Several had babies tied to their backs. Behind them stood men in soccer jerseys and tracksuit bottoms. It was an integration of the old world with the new, and I was honored to be here to witness it.

  “Don’t let the setting fool you,” Corey whispered in my ear, his arm around m
y waist, fiercely protective. “The people who live in this village choose to be here because of the agricultural benefits. They’re an incredibly astute community who have invented one of the world’s most sophisticated irrigation systems.”

  “Then why are they staring at us?” I asked quietly.

  “Because we’re here to help.”

  I still didn’t understand, but I lifted my hand and waved. “Hola.”

  I few said hello back, and the crowd dispersed as a man wearing an army uniform greeted us. “Corey!” he cheered, and they shook hands like old fraternity brothers. “Long time no see, man. Thanks for coming out on such short notice.”

  “Of course,” Corey said, his arm still clutching my waist. “I had to answer the call.”

  “More poachers?” I asked.

  “You could say that,” Corey replied, and then he introduced us. “Imogen, this is Barrett. He made all the arrangements.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “This village, this country — it’s amazing.”

  “I hope you feel the same after you see your residence,” Barrett said and laughed heartily.

  After the comment, I expected him to lead us down to the grass huts, but he took us to one of the block units a short walk away. It was a single room with a kitchenette and a door to a bathroom, but it was actually quite spacious and decorated with a refined jungle charm. A bed with a pillowed mattress and thin sheets on top sat with a palm-wood headboard against the back wall. Closer to the door was a hammock stretched between the walls. There was no television, but a radio rested on a small writing desk, and there were outlets around for electronics.

  “It’s better than I could ever imagine,” I said honestly, setting my rucksack down on the floor next to the writing desk.

  “Are you sure?” Corey asked. “I know it’s not exactly fine living.”

  “It’s good living,” I assured him, flopping down on the bed. “Comfy.”

  “There’s hot water in the bathroom,” Barrett informed us. “Grocery stores don’t exactly exist in these parts, but the locals will be bringing you food out of gratitude for what you’re doing here.” He tapped the door anxiously and addressed Corey. “There’s a meeting in an hour. Settle in then join us.”

  “See you then,” Corey said, and Barrett left.

  “He’s friendly,” I acknowledged. “Why do the villagers feel so indebted to us?”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.”

  Standing by the door, he tested the locks, making sure they were bolted tight. Only when the door was shut did I realize there were no windows in the room.

  “That’s strange,” I mused. “And dark.”

  “It’s to keep away the mosquitos.”

  Satisfied, he opened the door once more, and light came flooding back in. I looked around, curious about our sleeping arrangements. “About the bed…”

  Corey flashed me a smile. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got the hammock.”

  “Maybe I wanted the hammock,” I teased.

  “Then it’s all yours, as long as you don’t mind me sleeping in it with you.”

  Floating in my good mood, I hopped off the bed, pulled my journals out of my rucksack, and stacked them neatly on top of the writing desk. “I think I’ll like it here.”

  “I think you already do,” Corey observed. “That’s the wildness in you. Nature is where you belong. Why else would you have become an environmentalist? Seeing you in the city was like watching a star being buried underground. In the wilderness, you shine.”

  “I can’t argue with poetry like that,” I said, yawning. “Do we have time to sleep before this meeting?”

  “Don’t worry about the meeting. It’s nothing you have to concern yourself with. Sleep all you want.”

  Unable to resist, I crawled beneath the sheet, more for comfort than warmth, Colombia was hot, and I drifted off into a sound slumber, waking only when I heard Corey come through the door. It was night, his entrance lit by moonlight.

  “What’s in your hands?” I asked, struggling to open my eyes, still exhausted.

  “Don’t be scared; it’s just a rifle.”

  Instantly, I reached beside me and turned on the overhead light. Like a hunter in the woods, Corey held a rifle between his fists. Worse, he was dressed in camouflage.

  “You need to tell me what’s going on,” I demanded.

  “Don’t worry about it. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  It was not at all consoling. Enraged, I rushed over to him and covered his hands with my own so that we both held the gun. I gazed into his eyes, searching. “What are we doing here?”

  “You’re here to study the environment.”

  “And you?”

  “I can’t focus with you so close,” he said hoarsely, staring at me with a feral yearning that made his pupils large and engulfing. “If you want answers, you’re going to have to let go of my hands.”

  I should have let go, but I couldn’t, trapped in time, as if we were in Thailand once again and none of the last few months had happened. “I don’t want to,” I breathed.

  Dropping the gun, allowing it to clatter to the ground, Corey ensnared my cheeks between his strong but gentle hands and kissed me with the passion of lust pent-up for a thousand years. His kiss tasted good, my appetite as strong as his in the intoxicating jungle. The rhythm of his tongue was familiar, an echo from the many kisses we had shared before.

  Heated, he tenderly guided me to the bed, his mouth locked to mine, but before we reached it, the reality of what was about to happen caused me to push him away.

  “I can’t,” I gasped, out of breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize,” he told me. “It’s my fault. I know you want to take it slow.”

  “No,” I stated, my heart pounding. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this, but I had to. Things had escalated too quickly. “I do have to apologize, for a lot of things.”

  Patient, Corey said nothing, listening.

  Falling on the bed, my head dropped down to my knees as I held my stomach. “I never should have come here, not without telling you the truth first.”

  He kneeled beside me and stroked my hair back, running his thumb down my tattoo. “What is it? Tell me, Imogen,” he said soothingly.

  Shaking, I forced myself to sit up and face him. “Before I say anything, please understand that no one thought you were coming back. You hadn’t been home in years. I didn’t believe them at first, but when you didn’t contact me…”

  “Is this about the guy you were seeing, because it’s okay. I mean, we had something special in Thailand, and we’re building on that now, but I could hardly expect you to wait around for me.”

  My lips trembled. “But I promised you I would.”

  “Made in the heat of the moment. It’s completely forgivable that you found someone else in between, especially since I didn’t contact you. I should have. No wonder you didn’t believe I was coming back.”

  I swallowed. “No one thought you were. That’s really important. Because…” I shuddered out a breath. “Because the man I fell in love with was your brother.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Corey fell on the bed beside me, clearly distressed, but not nearly as angry as I thought he’d be after learning I’d dated his brother. Well, dated was a loose term, but no way was I going into the details with him.

  “Don’t be mad at Noah,” I implored. “He was adamant that you weren’t going to return, that history spoke louder than promises. And he wasn’t just saying that to be with me. He never believed you’d come home. Deep down, it was his biggest regret. I saw it in him. He missed you, but he thought you were gone for good.”

  “It’s a punch in the gut,” Corey admitted. “I’m not really sure how to process it. I told him to look after you, not…” He covered his eyes with his hands. “And yet, I can see it from your perspective. You’re beautiful. He looks like me so…” he smirked deliciously, “he’s obv
iously good looking. I wasn’t there. He was.”

  “It’s complicated,” I murmured, dejected.

  “That’s an understatement,” he said, setting his hand on my knee. “Why did it end?”

  “We wanted different things,” I said honestly. “And so we moved on.” I refused to tell him it had only been after his arrival. Corey deserved the truth, but not the whole truth.

  He sighed. “At least now I understand why you didn’t rip my clothes off the minute you saw me,” he joked through his gloom.

  “So what do we do?” I asked. “Should I leave?”

  “No way,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “It will take time, but I believe in us. We’ll get there.”

  Exhaling, I shuddered with emotion. “I should have waited for you. It would have made everything so much easier.”

  “Maybe this will make you feel better—”

  Before he could say more, I leaned away from him. “Don’t say you met a girl in Thailand, because I don’t think I can handle it.”

  Smiling, he brushed a strand of my hair away from my sleepy eyes. “There was a girl in Thailand, and she’s right here, in this room with me, entrancing me with her wildness.”

  “She’s a lucky girl.”

  “Not as lucky as she thinks. I kept something from you too. The reason I returned from Thailand when I did was because I was summoned here, by Barrett. He’s an old friend of mine who lends his military background to those in need. About two weeks ago, some men from this village were taken hostage by guerilla soldiers who live in the jungle.”

  I was horrified. “Why?”

  “The irrigation system the village built is patented, the design ready to be sold to the highest bidder. The revolutionaries want the blueprints to sell for themselves.”

  Frightened, I completely forgot about my earlier confession. “So you’re here to take the hostages back by force?”

  “If it comes to that. We’re in the middle of negotiations now.”

  “I know you, Corey. You’re not here to negotiate. You’re here to be reckless.”