by B. B. Hamel
I felt like I could finally think for the first time. I wondered briefly where Emory was, but it took me a second to realize that he would be sleeping like any other normal person.
I should have been exhausted, but for some reason I felt more awake than I had in days. I stood up and stretched, moving around the room as quietly as I could. I didn’t want to risk waking Mason up, not when he was finally getting some sleep.
I left the room, leaving the door ajar, and went to use the bathroom. I couldn’t help but think about Emory as soon as I got in there, though, as the memory of his body pressed up against mine in that room was still very fresh in my mind.
I wished I was confused about the way I felt about Emory, but I wasn’t. My feelings for him were simple: I wanted him, and wanted him badly. The more I got to know him, the stronger the attraction became. It wasn’t just his body and his cocky smiles that drove me crazy, or even what he could make me feel with his tongue and his fingers.
It was much more than that. It was his loyalty, the way he took to taking care of Mason, the way he was doing everything in his power to keep us safe. It was his strength. And we had similar backgrounds, which made me like him even more.
It was the implications of my feelings that were confusing, not the feelings themselves. Feelings were simple, obvious. But what the feelings mean for people could be devious and difficult to come to grips with.
My feelings for Emory were simple, but they were also complex. He was the father of my child and I had no clue what I wanted from him. I felt myself feeling for him more and more intensely, but did that mean I wanted him to be in my life all the time, to help raise Mason? That wasn’t exactly fair, or even likely given his job.
There was no future with Emory. I knew that, had understood it the second I’d learned he was a Navy SEAL. The man was a fighter, a warrior, and he would always be a warrior. No amount of diapers could change that about him, and he’d always crave that action.
I understood that, but it didn’t change how I felt. I wanted that warrior, wanted him to take me, to make me his. But I needed to think about what was best for Mason, and I didn’t know if Emory was best considering how much danger Emory brought into our lives.
As I left the bathroom, my mind a clouded mess of confusion, I heard something from downstairs. It sounded like a creaking floorboard. I looked down the hall and noticed that Emory’s door was open.
Silently, I walked over to it and stuck my head inside. There was nobody in there and the bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in.
Curious, I softly began to move down the steps. He was just probably sleeping on the couch, and I’d just heard him tossing and turning. I got halfway down the steps and looked out over the living room.
But he wasn’t on the couch. In fact, it was deadly silent downstairs, and totally dark.
I felt something strange inside me. My skin began to prickle with goose bumps and every hair stood up on end. It was like I’d stepped into a static field, and my every instinct was telling me to run.
I took another step downstairs and heard the noise again. It was definitely something strange, but it wasn’t a floorboard. I got to the bottom of the steps and silently moved toward the kitchen.
And stopped dead in my tracks. I watched as one of the locks on the back door slowly turned, unlocking itself.
That was the sound I was hearing, the locks on the door slowly being unlocked one at a time.
My heart was pounding in my chest. I watched and saw a shadow cross the door’s small window. I caught sight of something black.
Something like a mask.
I turned away and ran. I didn’t think. I just ran upstairs, back into the nursery, and shut the door. I locked it and began to pace around, my heart hammering, mind spinning.
What had I seen down there? The locks were opening one at a time, but that could just be Emory coming back home. But then again, I’d never seen Emory come in through the back, let alone wear a black mask.
I wasn’t even sure it was a mask. It seemed like it could have been, but I only got a quick look and it was so dark.
Everything felt wrong to me as I paced around the small room, terror running through my heart. I didn’t know if it was terrorists breaking in to kill us or if it was just Emory coming back from some late-night adventure.
And I had no real way of knowing without leaving the bedroom again. I couldn’t do that though and leave Mason behind. Waking up Mason was out of the question, since he’d just start crying again.
I tensed, terror running through me. I hated being locked up in this room, not knowing what was happening out there. I hated being so damn helpless, but what could a normal girl like me do against trained, violent terrorists?
I had to stay strong and not panic. That was the best I could do. I had to keep myself together for Mason’s sake and hope that it was just Emory coming in through that back door.
Because if Emory was missing and that was The Network breaking in, then I just might be dead already.
22
Emory
I moved silently through the neighborhood, scouting out the quiet houses.
I hadn’t been able to get to sleep. I had tried, but I’d just kept hearing Mason crying upstairs. I could tune out loud, difficult noises, since I was trained to sleep under any condition, but there was something about him being in pain that kept me awake.
Tara didn’t seem interested in talking, which was fine with me. She’d gotten what she’d wanted, even though it wasn’t completely necessary. I couldn’t blame her, since it was my choice to go to the hospital in the end.
Still, I wished she could have been at least a little more grateful, or at least a little less pissed off. She didn’t seem to get how much danger we were in every time we so much as walked outside the safe house.
I had no clue if we had been spotted or not. There was just no real way for me to know. I moved silently through the neighborhood, sticking to the shadows, but I found nothing.
I was like a shadow in the night, deadly and swift. This was my element, my way of life. I was the stalker and the world was my prey. Nobody could stand before me and survive long if I wanted to destroy them. In the night, I was in control.
I moved across the street and crouched down in the shadows. A minute later, another shadow peeled itself from a wall and crouched down next to me.
“Captain,” Travis said.
“How’s it going?”
“Not bad. Quiet.”
“Sorry about earlier. The hospital thing.”
I could sense Travis’s discomfort. “I understand needing to take the kid to the doc, but was that the best decision?”
I glanced at him. He was staring out across the street. “No,” I said, “it wasn’t. I told command that I’m too close to this, but they insisted on keeping me in control of the girl.”
Travis nodded. “Blackfire knows his stuff.”
“He does, but I’m worried he made the wrong call on this one.”
Travis looked at me. “Are you too close?”
I didn’t answer at first. My mind wandered back over the past few days and stopped on the moment when I finally saw Tara again in person.
The excitement I felt, the fire in my veins, the heat. That hadn’t gone away, not one bit. If anything, it had only gotten hotter and stronger the more I got to know her.
Then there was the way I felt about Mason. Holding him, feeding him, I’d never experienced that sort of emotion before. I wanted to take care of him, to protect him above all other things. I’d only ever felt that way about my squad before, but never to that intense a degree.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m too close.”
Travis nodded. “I’ll relay that.”
“Have you seen anything tonight?” I asked him, changing the subject.
“Maybe,” he said. “Can’t be sure. Saw some strange car movement a few hours back, but nothing since.”
“What happened?”
�
��Two cars, one white and one black, driving around the area. Could have been lost people. Could have been The Network scouting. Can’t be sure.”
“Omar?”
“Haven’t seen or smelled him.”
I nodded. “Got it. Keep an eye out.”
“Roger, captain.”
Travis melted back into the shadows and disappeared.
I held my position for another minute, my mind wandering slowly. Strange cars, threats in the night. I was too close to this, too damn close to this, and yet Blackfire thought it was the right call to keep me involved.
“Fucking hell,” I said as I disengaged myself from the shadows and headed back toward the safe house.
Everything was quiet as I moved down the alley and jumped over the back wall. I landed on my toes without making a sound, crouching down and scouting out the yard.
Everything looked fine. I moved across the backyard and stopped at the back door, reaching into my pocket for the keys.
As I grabbed the handle, the door pushed open. It gave to the slightest pressure.
Instantly I entered battle mode. My heartrate jumped but my breathing slowed, and I felt completely calm. My training took over and I began to asses the situation.
The back door was open. There was no way Tara had opened it, which meant someone had broken in. There was no sign that the door had been forced, and so I could reasonably conclude that whoever was inside was trained to open doors silently, even doors with a bunch of solid locks.
I slipped my knife from the sheath on my thigh and made sure that the silencer was on my pistol. Softly, I pushed open the door.
The kitchen was empty. Like a shadow, I drifted into the space, moving along the counters, stepping silently. I pressed up against the far wall and edged toward the doorway.
I looked into the living room and spotted him. One man stood near the front door, a submachine gun in his hands. I counted at least ten paces from here to there, and so I sheathed my knife and pulled out my gun.
It only took two shots, one to his skull and one to his chest. He toppled to the ground, blood pooling around his motionless body.
I moved into the room fast, staying low. I stopped against the far wall and listened.
Nothing. No movements. No sound.
I kicked the man’s corpse. He was wearing a black ski mask and a combat vest. The vest had absorbed my second shot, but the first was enough to put him down.
It was The Network, no doubt about it. There weren’t any burglars in the whole city that had combat clothing like this guy had, not to mention the weapon, some serious firepower.
I pressed myself up against the stairwell wall and began slowly moving up toward the second floor, my gun held out and ready. I heard something up there, possibly someone trying to turn a doorknob, but I wasn’t positive. I moved a step faster and slowly came up around the corner.
Standing outside Tara’s room was a second man, also wearing a ski mask and dressed in combat armor. As I prepared my shot, he whirled on me, swinging his weapon like a club.
I pulled the trigger, but he caught my hands, knocking my gun away. The bullet bit into the ceiling harmlessly, showering the man in dust. He came at me, swinging his gun around to try and get a shot, but I moved too fast. I twisted right, stepped into the hall, and kicked his wrists, twisting them and sending the gun clattering.
He came at me fast, his fists moving through the air, swinging at my face. He was strong and clearly a good fighter, and I fell back, giving us more room. I ducked a blow and blocked a kick before stepping in and punching his gut once, twice. He stepped back, not phased, as his armor had absorbed the blows. He came down at my skull with his fists, smashing into my neck, sending me stumbling back.
He followed that with more vicious blows, heavy fists swinging at my body. I blocked and fell back farther, trying to put space between us. Eventually I pressed up against a closed door as he came at me, fighting hard.
I ducked and twisted, skirting along the wall. I landed a weak left to his neck, but it was enough to make him stumble back. I shoved past him, putting some space between us, and pulled my knife.
He came at me again, but I had the advantage now. I swiped at him, keeping him back. He growled as he launched himself at me, but I was too fast. I cut him quick on his shoulder and back, shoving him aside. I kneed him in the chest and he came up at me with a grunt, trying to head-butt my nose.
I twisted and drove my knife deep into his neck. He tried to hit me, but his strength was fading fast. He struggled, but I pulled out the knife and cut him again, opening his throat.
He fell to the ground, blood pooling around him.
Instantly I fell into a crouch, looking around, but the house was silent. If there was anybody else in the place, they would definitely have heard.
I took a deep breath, the overwhelming excitement coursing through my veins slowly beginning to fade. During that fight, my life on the line, I’d felt so alive, so powerful and free. My only goal had been to survive and to defeat my opponent, and I thrived on that shit.
I sheathed my blood-covered knife, retrieved my gun, slipped it back into my belt, and knocked on Tara’s door.
Inside, I could hear someone moving. Mason was crying, and I realized he must have been crying this whole time and I hadn’t even noticed in the excitement.
“It’s me,” I said. “It’s Emory.”
Slowly I heard the door unlock and then push open. “Emory?”
“It’s done,” I said. “They’re gone.”
“It was them, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Bastards must have caught us when we were out. I thought we were so careful.”
Her face dropped. “Emory, I’m so sorry.”
I wasn’t thinking. I just took her and pulled her against me, kissing her hard. She didn’t resist or struggle, just kissed me back.
This was what I fucking wanted. Fighting and fucking Tara were the two things I was best at, and I couldn’t want anything else in the world at that moment.
Finally, I pulled away. “It’s not your fault,” I said, “but we have to leave.”
“When?”
“Now,” I said. “Who knows when they’ll send more men. I’m guessing this was just supposed to be a scouting party.”
“Okay. Let me pack.”
I watched her gather her stuff and then moved into my own room to grab my bag. I was already packed and ready to go, since I was trained to always be prepared. I helped Tara finish up and then I called up Travis.
“We’re leaving,” I told him. “Come grab us.”
“Got it,” he said, and hung up.
As we moved downstairs, I didn’t know where we were going to go. There was no safe house to run to, no destination at all. The only thing I knew was that we had to get out of there, and tonight. We couldn’t wait a single second.
Mason was still crying, but softer now, less insistently. That wasn’t ideal, but it wouldn’t matter once we were in the car. My mind moved fast, planning our next steps, trying to figure out the best moves.
I was too close, but I was going to accomplish my goals. I was going to keep them safe, no matter what.
Fuck The Network, those terrorist bastards. They couldn’t have the people I cared about, and they never would.
23
Tara
I’d never felt more relieved in my entire life than when I’d heard Emory’s voice.
Before he showed up, I heard the man walk up the steps. He was trying to be quiet, but the steps creaked under his weight. I heard him search around the upstairs, going through Emory’s room, and finally standing outside mine.
He tried the knob once, twice, and then nothing for a moment. I stood there, my heart pounding, and I knew what was happening. I knew it was The Network coming for me, and all I could think about was how I could get Mason out of there.
And then a thump, a grunt, and more loud noises. It sounded like a bear was tearing through the hallway,
smashing everything, until I heard a wet gurgle and it was over.
It was easier this time to ignore the dead bodies on the floor as I packed and carried Mason downstairs. It was amazing how quickly I adapted to that reality. Just a couple of days earlier and the sight of those bodies, all that blood, would have sent me into a fear spiral. Instead, I ignored them and kept moving, because I couldn’t stand still.
As I stepped over the man downstairs, I noticed something hanging out of his pocket. Emory wasn’t around and must have missed it, so I bent over and snagged it. I shoved it into my pocket, not bothering to look too closely. I was too focused on getting out of there to worry about what it was.
Emory was silent when we finally got into the car with Travis. We drove, heading toward the edge of town.
“I’m sorry I missed them,” Travis said finally. “I fucked up, captain.”
“Not your fault,” he said. “You’re just one guy trying to keep watch all day and night. The Network has too many resources. You didn’t have a chance.”
“Still, cap, I should have been there.”
“Stop,” Emory said.
“I’m just saying, it was my responsibility.”
“No. Stop the car.”
Travis pulled over and Emory opened the door. It was the middle of the night and nobody was out on the streets. “I need to get a new car,” Emory said.
“Where?” I asked him. “Nothing is open.”
Emory grinned at me. “I’m going to fucking steal one.”
I wanted to protest, but he was already walking away. Travis turned around and grinned at me. “Cap is always like that,” he said. “Does whatever he thinks is right and doesn’t worry too much.”
I smiled back weakly but couldn’t stop watching as Emory walked up to a black truck. He did something with the window and managed to pop the lock open. He disappeared inside the truck, and two minutes later the engine roared to life.
Emory pulled the car alongside Travis and rolled down his windows. “Too easy,” he said.
