02 Masked-New World

by Stalder, Janelle

  “An object?”

  “An idea,” he corrected. “I had a plan, and he decided it was so good, he’d take it for his own. Then he took everything that went with it, and left me with nothing.”

  “So you’ve been searching for him ever since?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. At first I doubted he’d accomplish anything. When the rebels started to make noise, I had no reason to suspect it was him. But slowly things would happen that hinted at his involvement, and then one day I was presented with proof that he had accomplished part of the plan. From that point on, I knew for a fact he would be my nemesis hiding in the shadows. Your father has illusions of grandeur, and he’s willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to achieve it.” He looked at her meaningfully, and she knew what he was saying without saying it. He’d sacrifice his family. Anyone else would balk at a statement like that made against their parent, but in Bridgette’s case, she knew for a fact it was true. “And he has the gall to call me the monster.”

  They fell into a tense silence. Not against each other, but what was said, and what wasn’t, still hanging in the air between them. Bridgette didn’t want to push for too much information. Partly because she didn’t want him to become suspicious of her sudden curiosity, but mostly because she wasn’t sure she wanted to know any more. She didn’t have any misguided belief that her father was some angel, but Bridgette was beginning to wonder just how evil he truly was.

  He had stolen an idea from Ludwig Tennebris. At a time when Ludwig was no one outside his political circle; at a time when he was building toward the most destructive war the world had ever seen. Whatever this ‘idea’ was, Bridgette was positive it was something atrocious. All those nights of her father spewing hate for the New World leader, and not once had Bridgette known there was a personal connection between the two men. His hate had been so deep, so ingrained in everything he did. Now she knew there was so much more to the story, and, quite frankly, it terrified her.

  Awareness rolled over her body a second before Roman entered the room. She didn’t know what to make of it, but it was there nonetheless. Her attention focused on him despite her best efforts. His mouth instantly stretched into a smile as their eyes met, and all of a sudden he was tossing something in her direction. Bridgette let out a surprised squeak as a gun landed in her lap. She held up her hands as if touching the thing would burn her.

  “Ah, got the new shipment then?” Ludwig said.

  “Yup,” Roman answered, taking a seat in the only available chair. “Came in about half an hour ago. Everything looks good.”

  “It should,” Ludwig said with a snort, “for what I’m paying for them. Sal and the rest will be here within a week’s time. He said he’d be bringing us even more new items to test out.”

  Bridgette stared down at the offending piece of metal in her lap, too afraid to move in fear she might accidentally set the thing off. She knew next to nothing about guns, and wasn’t particularly comfortable with them.

  “We need to go to the range so you can try that baby out, Lottey,” Roman said to her.

  “Uh…yeah, sure,” she said, picking it up gingerly by the handle.

  “Is everything else okay?” Ludwig asked Roman, the two of them returning their attention to each other.

  “No issues to report,” he replied. “Skies are clear and the borders are holding up.”

  The shrill sound of the phone ringing had Bridgette almost jumping out of her seat. Ludwig got up and walked to his desk, his face pensive as he spoke to whoever was on the other line.

  “You want to go down to the range now?” Roman asked, grabbing her attention.

  Not really, she thought. “Okay. I’ll meet you downstairs.” She needed to grab her vest before she went anywhere, just to be extra cautious. It helped to hide her more telling curves that were nothing like Charlotte. She got up, holding the gun out to him. “Here, you take this for now.” There was no way she was walking around with something that deadly looking. The gun was menacing, and heavy in her hands. She walked out without waiting for a reply.

  “Hey! Wait up,” Roman called out from behind. Bridgette stopped and waited for him to catch up to her. “Is everything alright?” he asked, stopping just in front of her, his eyes searching hers.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “That’s the first time I’ve seen you not get excited over a new toy,” he said, holding up the firearm.

  “Oh I’m excited,” she lied. “I’m just waiting until we get to the range to get my shoot on.” Shoot on? She cringed inwardly. Could she sound more idiotic?

  He chuckled. “Right. Okay, I’ll meet you in five.” He turned and strode back into the room, the confident set of his shoulders nabbing her attention again. How could someone look so comfortable in their own skin? Bridgette had never been like that. It was admirable.

  “Did you need something else?”

  Bridgette looked up into two dark, blue eyes watching her with a spark of amusement. “What?” She gave her head a little shake. When had he stopped walking? Crap. “Uh…no, nothing else.” She spun around and all but ran down the hall, her face burning with the memory of the small, sexy smile that had crept onto his face still clear in her mind.

  His laughter washed over her, causing goose bumps to rise along her arms. She looked over at him, ignoring the way his smile brightened up his face to a point where she felt as though if she stared at it too long she’d have permanent retinal damage.

  “What the hell is so funny?” she asked.

  “You,” Roman answered as though it were obvious. “You’re looking at that piece like it’s about to turn around and bite you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so wary of a gun before.”

  She scoffed. “I’m not wary of anything. I’m simply inspecting it,” she defended. No, she was looking at it like it was about to bite her, she thought, hating that he was right. She kept the offending piece of metal away from her body, held between two fingers like it was one of McKay’s smelly socks she used to find around her apartment whenever he stayed the night. She wasn’t sure what was worse at this point. Her nose scrunched up in distaste.

  Guns had always made her nervous. Shooting one wasn’t really an experience she’d hoped to have in her lifetime. There was just something so callous about firearms. At least when she fought Roman hand-to-hand, there was a level of skill that had to be mastered. Sure, she could seriously harm someone that way, but she had more control over the situation when she was just using her arms and legs to attack. You introduced firearms to the equation and it didn’t matter who was the more skilled, it bottled down to who could pull and shoot faster.

  However, she reasoned, since she was stuck in this alternate lifestyle for however long it took her to do as her father commanded, she supposed it was a smart idea to learn, at the very least, how to shoot one of these things. Not that she wanted to use one – ever. But if she was going to find herself in dangerous situations like the two just past, it might make sense to have some extra protection.

  Great, she thought, now she was rationalizing. This, in her opinion, was the first step to using firearms and violence as a solution, and accepting it as a reasonable choice in a hostile scenario. Was this how it had happened to Charlotte, Bridgette wondered? Did she slowly desensitize herself to what was really right and wrong, until all the ‘wrongs’ became acceptable? It was a shaky path at best, and one Bridgette didn’t like walking.

  Bridgette heard him move until he stood behind her. Then suddenly his arms appeared on either side of her, one of his large hands covering hers which held the gun.

  “Come on,” he coaxed, taking the gun and forcing her to grip it properly beneath his hold. “Aim at your target and let’s see what this baby’s got.”

  She snorted. “You sure you don’t want me to leave you two alone?” she asked, desperately buying time before she’d actually have to shoot the damn thing.

  His voice came just beside her ear, his hot bre
ath sending a shiver down her spine that she tried to hide. “I’m sure,” he said lowly.

  Bridgette closed her eyes against the multitude of sensations his voice enticed when he spoke in that tone. Focus, she scolded herself. If she was going to do this, she had better be concentrating fully. Shaking it off didn’t help since her body rubbed up against his in the process. He was standing too close, clouding her mind like he always seemed to do.

  “Ready?” he asked, his voice right back where it made her think impure thoughts. Her friend Michelle would have had a field day with all this if she could see how Bridgette was reacting to the man behind her. One of the things Michelle had always teased Bridgette about was her lack of desire for the male species.

  It wasn’t that Bridgette hadn’t liked any men, because there had been a few she’d spent some time with. There was just never a spark there. It was like going through the motions for the sake of doing it, but never actually feeling any of it. She’d tried to explain this to Michelle once before, but it had gone completely over her head. She couldn’t understand why Bridgette couldn’t just find a man and settle down. Some girls dated men for the attention and companionship, but Bridgette wanted much more than that. She wanted someone who sent her blood boiling, and who felt the same way about her. That elusive spark people always spoke about. She wanted that.

  Well there was certainly something between her and Roman. The only problem was Roman thought she was her sister…it sort of put a damper on things. Roman wasn’t flirting with Bridgette, he was flirting with Charlotte. That reality snapped her out of her thoughts.

  Roman curved his upper body around her back, raising the gun level with the target at the other end of the room. Then his warmth was gone. Bridgette took a deep breath, focusing on her target, rather than the man who seemed to be occupying every stray thought she had. It was becoming an unhealthy addiction she seriously needed to kick. Her hands shook slightly as she looked down the barrel of the gun, the target in sight. Despite the fact that she hated guns, part of her wanted to make a good shot. It was the overachiever in her, she supposed.

  “You might want to take the safety off first,” Roman suggested with obvious amusement.

  Bridgette looked at the gun, wondering what on earth was the safety, and how did one release it? Eventually Roman walked back behind her, his chest brushing up against her back as he reached around and clicked something on the gun. Bridgette was too busy breathing in the scent of him like a crazy person to pay attention to what he’d done. He stepped back again, giving her some much needed space.

  Focusing again, Bridgette locked her eyes on the target and squeezed the trigger, squeezing her eyes shut as she did. The force of the shot ricochet down her arm and had her taking a step back. She opened her eyes to see how she’d done, but couldn’t see where the bullet had hit the target. Huh. Where did it go?

  Roman came up beside her chuckling. “That was the worst shot I’ve ever seen,” he said.

  Bridgette bristled indignantly. “It wasn’t that bad,” she argued.

  “Next time,” he said, leaning in close, “try shooting with your eyes open. You might hit something that way.”

  She sighed, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat. “Clearly I’m not cut out for this,” she said. “The darn thing nearly took my arm off.” Her muscles were still aching from the recoil of the shot.

  Roman laughed again. “Let’s try again,” he said, stepping to the side so he was behind her once more. The feel of his arms coming around to encompass her was starting to become disturbingly familiar. He placed his hands over hers again, lining up the shot. This time he didn’t take them off as he steadied her hand, and flicked the safety off expertly with his thumb. “Ready?” he asked, his voice soft in her ear. She nodded. “Eyes open this time.”

  Bridgette braced herself, but the kickback wasn’t as bad with Roman’s muscled torso bracing her. She watched as a tiny hole appeared in the target at the other end of the room. It wasn’t in the middle, but at least it was close! Of course, she couldn’t accomplish the same thing on her own, but still, she was slightly pleased. She turned her head, smiling even though he couldn’t see it.

  “I did it,” she said proudly.

  When he turned to look at her, their faces were so close their noses almost touched. “You sure did,” he said, his eyes suddenly serious as he stared into hers. Slowly, Bridgette’s smile slipped away as tension built between them. Neither said a word, just looked at each other, Roman’s arms still wrapped around her.

  “What is it about you lately?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

  “What do you mean?” she replied, matching his tone.

  He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know, but you’re different somehow. I can’t explain it. It’s your eyes, I think.”

  “What about them?”

  “They’re just – different. They sparkle with so much energy and life…it’s captivating.”

  Bridgette floundered for a response, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. What could she say to that? Thankfully she was saved from a reply as the door to the range slammed open, the sound echoing.

  “There you are,” a female voice said, her heels clicking loudly on the floor as she made her way over to them.

  Roman hadn’t looked away, his face still searching for an answer he wasn’t about to get. Bridgette wanted to see who had entered, but was enthralled by the man standing so close to her. By all outward appearances, Roman Adamson was a hard, controlled man. But as Bridgette stared deeply into his eyes, she could see there was so much more to him, hidden beneath the image he’d created for the rest of the world. There was longing and passion, things she wasn’t sure she could handle. Especially not when she was only there to do a job for her father, and then leave. A job she really didn’t want to do, but had no choice if she was going to save her sister.

  He finally released her, just as the footsteps stopped right behind them.

  “Eve,” he said, a small smile on his face, “what a surprise.” He dropped his arms and took a step back. Bridgette looked forward, trying her best to get her breathing under control before she had to face this newcomer.

  “A good one, I hope,” she said, her voice laced with flirtation. Bridgette didn’t like her already and she hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of the woman.

  “Of course,” Roman said. Bridgette stiffened. Was this woman Roman’s lover?

  “And this must be the infamous Weapon X,” Eve said. “Or Ludwig’s precious Dinah, as Sal always likes to say.”

  Bridgette turned, instantly regretting it. The woman, Eve, was stunning. Beside her, Bridgette looked plain and drab. Her hair was cut in a stylish bob, the front reaching longer than the back, just beneath her collarbone. It was a deep gold that looked beautiful next to her tanned skin. How was anyone tanned in New Berlin? Eyes that looked violet were accented artfully with make-up, her lips painted a deep red. This woman was clearly no lower.

  She was smiling at Bridgette, but Bridgette found it impossible to smile back. It was another rare moment where she was actually thankful she had to wear a mask. Otherwise this lady would see how distraught she felt at the realization that this was the type of woman Roman was probably used to. He wasn’t going to want some dancer from the ghettos. Words escaped her amongst her inner turmoil, so Bridgette simply inclined her head to the woman in greeting. She glanced at Roman to see him watching her curiously.

  “Eve’s Sal’s personal assistant,” Roman explained.

  She laughed a deep throaty laugh that Bridgette was sure gave men all sorts of ideas. “Personal assistant is what we’re calling it now?” She waved him off as Roman opened his mouth to rebut. “It’s fine. Call it whatever you want. He thought it would be best if I came ahead of him, just to check things out. The way things have been going in other places,” she said with a pointed look in his direction, “he didn’t want to take any chances. His flight plan has been kept so under wraps, I’m not
even sure when he’s set to arrive.”

  Sal must be the weapons dealer, Bridgette realized. Did this mean he would be arriving earlier than she thought? A fine sweat broke out along her spine. The plan her father had put in motion might happen sooner than she was mentally prepared for.

  “When did you arrive?” Roman asked conversationally.

  “Not long ago,” she answered, tugging on the cream pencil skirt she wore, even though it looked perfect already. Bridgette doubted this woman ever looked anything but. “I spoke with Ludwig briefly, but I was eager to find you.”

  Bridgette was going to be sick, it was official. She turned and placed the gun down and pulled out the earplugs that had only slightly muffled the sound of the gun. “I’ll leave you two to…”Bridgette trailed off awkwardly.

  “You’re welcome to join us for dinner,” Eve said. Bridgette doubted she was sincere, and quite frankly, she had no desire to sit by and watch them flirt with each other all night.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m just going to head back to my room,” Bridgette said, stepping around her.

  “Are you sure?” Roman asked.

  Bridgette didn’t bother to look at him. She just waved her hand over her head and nodded, saying, “yup. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then she headed out, blinking back tears that shouldn’t be there. She didn’t even understand why she was crying to begin with. She hurried along, trying her best to get control of her wayward emotions and keep herself from thinking about exactly what those two would be doing for the rest of the night.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “I never want to do that again in my life,” Seamus said, rolling his neck from side to side.

  “I’m pretty sure there will be at least one more time where you’ll need to do that,” Garrett pointed out.

  Seamus shook his head. “Nope. Now that I know what it feels like, promise me you’ll just throw me in the ocean or something.”

  Charlotte laughed at them, but to be honest, she couldn’t agree with Seamus more. Her limbs felt stiff from being confined in such a restricted space for so long, but more than that she was simply disturbed by the entire thing. Small spaces had never really bothered her, but being stuck in one for such an extended period of time had started to get to her. She waited outside the truck as Matt, the boy who had come up with this brilliant idea, continued to free the rest of them from the remaining coffins.